Sixkiller- Tale of the Silver Dime
by Phoenix-sol
Summary: A resistance goes by the name; Freedom Fighters. But what are they really fighting for? Who leads & who follows? Tom Berenson; the escaped eighth murder victim is forced to face a life of new complexities. What is the secret of the F.F? Who do they fear?
1. Sixth Murder

SIXKILLER

I know, I know, it's been a while. This is the beginning of my first fic I started to write after the holidays. I couldn't post any new chapter for my old fics because I was out of the country in July-August, I just managed to work out this fic after a burst of inspiration, I'm facing a serious writers block on all my old fics, mostly because they _are_ 'old'. I need time to get back to them. 

In the mean time, the new fic;

**SIXKILLER- TALE OF THE SILVER DIME**

_Chapter One_

A lone figure was walking down a deserted street, from time to time his profile would be briefly caught beneath the dim lights of the lampposts. His profile consisted of a muscular body that was more lenient to heavy than slim, his face was obscured beneath a hat and his eyes sank into the deep borrows of his face; a dark turtleneck covered his torso and broad shoulders coming to an end at his thick neck.

As he stepped from one circle of light into another, his large heavy gloved but quick hands, reached in his pocket and withdrew a mobile phone, not once did his pace drop, whether or not the boy managed to find and contact the person he was looking for was unclear, he did not talk, nor did he nod or display displeasure or disappointment, he simply walked for a few seconds then put the phone back into his pocket.

There was a light fall of raindrops, and with the coming of the rain a chill filled the dead night. A gust of wind picked up as the boy turned a corner and waited patiently in an isolated and remote alleyway. The shadows buried this figure until he was but another dark area in the ally, no sound or movement came form his corner.

After a wait of twenty minutes, dull thudding signaled the arrival of another figure, this one was clearly older, with a shiny bald patch on his head and thin metal-framed glasses.

The new figure seemed unaware of another presence in the ally, he leaned against the wall –surprisingly close to our boy- and tapped his foot impatiently, he looked down at his watch and then thumped his thighs.

A sharp tinkling sound appeared and the new comer's attention was drawn to a shiny silver dime bouncing on the pavement, it rolled and stopped at the newcomer's shoes, he bent down to pick it up.

It was only then did our boy lunge forward and slip a wire around the man's neck, the boy tightened the wire forming a chocking slicing collar around the man's neck and pulled.

The man managed to let out a surprised muffled sound and then all could be heard was the furious yet silent struggle for freedom and air.

As the man struggled and thrashed, the boy tightened his hold on the wire and lifted him clear off the ground, the man's gray blue eyes dimmed considerably, the animal sparkle of terror was soon banished from his eyes and a staring glassy expression overcame them.

There were no more movements. The boy hung the man from a suspended pipe and left him hanging. Since he had been standing behind his victim, he was untouched from the bright red blood that drenched the man's light colored long-sleeved shirt.

The boy left the coin where it was –just beneath his hanged victim- as he took off in the night he did not need to glance back to see what was written in blood red ink on the alley wall. It was only five words, but they held great meaning to those who understood.

The five words formed a short message, an ill-conceived plan. A drear promise to those who had done wrong;

"We will get you all,"

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Okay, this is it for now; the first chapter as you just found out is a murder. Who was murdered will be announced in chapter three, and 'why' would be found out in the next chapter. I have a feeling this story has potential. I have some definite ideas about the plot and the animorphs may enter the scene on chapter four/five. I do know how they'll meet I'm not really sure when though. 

The next chapter will be posted shortly, I just need to check it over again, please review, I need to know whether of not I should continue the story, instead of writing it and figuring out the plot only to find out no one's interested. Oh well, I hope you like it, especially since it's written in a different style than all my other fics.


	2. Seventh Murder

SIXKILLER

_Chapter Two_

Across a grassy field was a chestnut colored mare that was running with a rider atop her back. The rider was a girl in her mid-teens, her long auburn hair was hassled by the wind and so was the mare's mane. The animal kicked up wet dirt clods as it galloped towards the tree line and aligned with a nearby river.

The mare's dark bold eyes were full with the beat of life, her owner however, seemed to be staring emptily ahead, frowning or scowling from time to time to chase away dark thoughts.

At a better time, Abby's eyes might have cherished their prized bright sparkle and lit her mysterious green eyes with the innocence of childhood, but this is one of the worse times ever, and if anything her young face seemed aged and weary, it was as if the arrival of severe circumstances had chased away the child inside her and beckoned the adult to emerge.

Abigail circled the open meadow once again, always looking in the distance. She led the horse to a clumsy stop not far from where the river forked off in two different directions. She twisted backwards and seemed to be regarding the horizon. She turned back to her horse and leaned forward to pat her on the neck.

"Where is he, Red?"

Red did not seem to understand that her owner had directed a question for her, but she did notice the grip on her reins slipping, she took a voluntary step forward and dropped her head to graze.

The girl was far too distracted to notice that her horse had decided it was time to stop. She twisted backwards again and desperately scanned the distant trees.

With a distressed huff and an absent minded tug on the reins, Abby led the horse back towards the forest and hugged the tree line, she continued the walk down the river.

But after a short walk the girl stopped the horse and looked around again, "Where is he Red? He promised he'd come and help me. The guy's already here. _He_ should've been here by now."

Grudgingly she nudged the horse forward, "He said I should do it if he doesn't come, what do you think Red?"

The girl might as well have been talking to herself, she arched her back and shrugged her shoulders, but then she burst out, "I don't like this one bit. I'm not use to this, the boys never let me do a number alone."

The girl immersed in deep thought, as the horse trotted up a steep hill. The 'what if's and the 'if not's were bearing down on her. But she continued her journey and stopped just in front a border of trees. "Stay right here Red, I shouldn't be long. Promise."

Abby demounted and stepped on the slightly muddy soil -muddy from the previous night's light drizzle- she allowed a bright colored insect to investigate her green top and then took off down the hill. Abby hid herself behind a couple of bushes that overlooked the river and secured her position by firmly planting both feet on hard ground.

Apparently, she was looking at the man who stood beside a tree not far from the river's bank. Staring emptily at the moving surface; the man shifted his weight and yawned.

Abby blinked back tears and with a quivering arm, she pointed an armed gun at the man.

After taking aim she took one last long look at the man's last moment of life. And before she lost her courage she gripped the gun carefully, murmuring to herself she said, "I'm sorry."

With that, she fired her weapon.

The man dropped and the forest rang with the dieing echoes of the blast. Far off a horse whined nervously.

Before leaving, Abby laid a silver dime beside the dead man.

She glanced at the message engraved in the bark and then painted in screaming red.

"We will get you all."

She looked away and never glanced back.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Next chapter I'll introduce you to the team behind this, they are _not_ morph capable, and secondly, I'm having the team a mixture of nationalities, by the way Abby is an English girl, you'll understand what's behind the murders and why these are the sixth and seventh murders, I'm telling you that the victim in murder six plays an important factor in the story...em no, actually, the next murder is. Anyway, I'm not giving away the plot, I'll post the next chapter shortly. Please review, I'll really appreciate it. 


	3. Problems

SIXKILLER

Just to make things clear;

Sixkiller as you will find out, is a name of a character in my story. My story is pre-45, before the animorph's parents got introduced to the war. And it has nothing to do with The One or Book 54.

The boy in chapter one who committed the 'sixth murder' is called Roger. I have not decided Roger's nationality yet so you have to wait on that, I'll probably mention it in the next chapter.

The girl in chapter two who committed the 'seventh murder' is called Abby, she's an English girl.

I so cleverly (don't you love it when you have to say that?) weaved in the animorphs in my story, read on and find out how, this is soo exciting, you don't know what's going to happen next do you? Hehehe.

_Chapter Three_

"You're late." Said a skeptical voice coming from the sofa.

Abby slammed the door behind her causing Victor to turn away from the TV and glance her way. He turned back to the screen and said, "You're late."

"You're bloody right I am!" Abby said in her British accent, her soft green eyes were flared slightly and her nose and cheeks were a few shades redder than her normal flushed complication.

"Don't swear." Victor said calmly. Still not looking at her.

"I can bloody say whatever it is I have in mind." Abby clarified this point with hands on hips. Her auburn hair dangled around her face, it had gotten loose during her dash back to the forest line.

"Fine, you're entitled to say what you want to say," Victor sighed. "Why are you late?"

Abby started to pace, as she spoke, she gestured wildly, "I'll tell you why I'm late Vic. Mickey didn't get to me in time. I wasted half an hour waiting for him and he didn't show up. I thought of aborting the mission but remembered your specific orders, so what I did is knock the guy's brains out, and if that wasn't bad enough I managed to scare Red away, and I had a lovely three hour walk back to civilization, so there! That's why I'm late!"

Mickey who just came in to the living room grinned and waved at Abby, "Terribly sorry about this mornin' I had to give it the run around in case someone was following me. It took longer than I thought it would."

Abby stared at Mickey for a few seconds then shouted angrily, "Sorry? Sorry? What do you want me to do with 'sorry'? Vic are you hearing this? Vic? _Vic?_ Say something for god sakes!"

"What do you want me to say?" Victor said with a hint of irritation, "What's done is done. And Mickey, don't take long routes. Otherwise we'd have to deal with huff and puff here."

"Why I-" Abby said in indignation, then turned to Mickey and then Vic and yelled "You ought to be ashamed of yourselves! Both of you!"

"What's all the yelling about?" Roger demanded walking boldly into the room, "I was sleeping in there."

"I'm glad _someone_ noticed." Abby muttered. "For a while then I thought I was at it alone."

"What's she on about?" Roger asked, taken back slightly.

"Forget her." Victor raised an arm to stop Abby's objection, "I called a meeting in case you lot don't remember. The rest should be here by now." Victor turned to Abby, "Then we could remember you."

Abby shook her head and walked away to the kitchen, Roger followed her slowly. He watched calmly as she made both of them something to eat. Actually, she made Roger a sandwich and pulled out a bar of chocolate for herself. She sat on the table peeling away the packet as Roger munched on his beef sandwich watching Abby silently.

"The thing is," Abby started slowly, "I don't know what's happening, I don't know what's happening to us, what we're turning into."

Roger shrugged, "It's been a while," he told the English girl.

"Yeah, I know, but we're supposed to keep it together and besides," her lower lip quivered slightly as she went on, "What we're doing is against everything we fight for, its unjustified."

Roger's massive frame shifted uneasily, "I guess so. I mean. I don't know. With what they're doing…we should strike back. I'm done playing defenses."

"But what we're doing, do you like it?"

"What's in it to like?" Roger commented bitterly, "I'll be glad when this is all over."

"You think we'll last that long?" Abby wondered.

"With the way we are going?" He said skeptically raising his eyebrows.

Abby bit her lip and then looked down at her chocolate as if she lost her appetite, "Forget I asked."

There was a short period of silence when Abby broke it by sighing loudly. "What happened to the good old days of carefree life?"

"What happened?" Roger prodded.

She rolled her eyes at Roger, "It's a rhetoric question."

"Ah, the world is full of these."

Abby rubbed at her eyes, "I'm thinking Vic got the meeting on too late."

"Eh? Really?" Roger glanced at the walls trying to locate a clock, "Why, what time is it?"

Abby rolled her eyes again, "No, I meant we should have had a meeting _before_ trouble started. You know, so that we could have planned against it rather than scheduling a troubleshooting meeting."

"Is that what we're going to talk about?" Roger speculated, "Troubleshooting?"

Abby flinched slightly, then said, "No, I don't think that's the only thing we're talking about, Vic said something about us telling what we're thinking about all this."

Roger scratched his back and looked at Abby, "I don't like those kind of meetings, I hate them actually. What's the point behind talking about how bad war is?"

"So we could justify it, I suppose." Abby fell silent as the front door crashed open and numerous voices and snatches of conversations leaked into the kitchen. The rest of the gang filed out in the kitchen and after a few moments, Vic appeared.

"We're all here." He said, "Good then we, better get started."

"Or else we'd adjourned for yet another time." Mickey called out helpfully, "Hey Vic, you want a curly white wig and a judge's black gown? Maybe a-"

Vic's somber look cut Mickey's attempt to lighten the mood. Jut as well, if not stopped, Mickey could attract the odd parts of attention. And considering how cranky the group was, 'odd attention' was not needed.

"I'm sure we all have things to say," Victor said, "But before we go on to those, I need you to see this."

Victor stood up and walked back to the living room, the rest followed as he plunked down on the sofa and grabbed the remote control. "Sit, come on, I've recorded something of interest on the VCR."

Abby had a feeling Vic's video of interest may be bad news or something that was bothering him, which ever way it was, she sat down quietly and gave Vic her undivided attention.

"The first part is from a few weeks ago, the others are about now," Vic said, "I'm sure we'll recognize it."

Vic hit the play button and it wasn't soon after Mickey found something to say, "What happened to you Vic? Since when did you start tapping the news?"

Victor didn't bother answering Mickey, nor did any of the others; they were all watching the tape silently.

It was something about a serial killer. Some killer who preferred to strangulate his victims and hang them, there was always a message nearby and there was the silver dime.

First murder was a Frank White, he was found inside the small licker store he owned, apparently, his best friend had found him. Scrawled out in red was the message, 'We will get you all'.

Second murder was a thirty two year old woman named Sally Wellford, she was found hanged in her apartment out of town, not far from her, scrawled on the windows was the same message.

Third murder was a Danny Troy, found dead in his little toy store, which he had owned with a business friend, again, both dime and message were found.

Fourth murder was that of a doctor named Robert Kent, he was found hanged on the overhead fan with a coin beneath him, the message written on his wall. There was an emotional interview with the wife.

The murders had a few things in common, one they were all hanged with wire, second there was the silver dime, third there was the strange message, and fourth, the new link; they all attended the sharing, and happen to be highly ranked members. There was no time frame between the murders, apparently one could be happening right now.

Sixth murder was an assistant principle named Hedrick Chapman, he was found hanged in a deserted ally way. Again there was the message and the silver dime. A family member, a girl was standing huddled by her mother crying. The mother was saying something to the girl.

"Look," Victor said, somewhat coldly, "Look what they say now."

Apparently, the fifth and seventh kill were a bit different. The seventh kill was a Richard Ben who was found shot dead lying on the ground by a tree in the national forest, the message and the dime where there forcing the authorities to link it with the other crimes.

The fifth murder was very peculiar, it was done in the same style as all the other murders, Gorge Fay was strangled with a length of wire and hanged. There was the silver dime, but the message had changed. It spelled something different;

'You took what's mine to keep and treasure.'

All eyes turned on Mark, but Mark wasn't looking at them, he was looking at the blank TV screen.

"We had an order Mark, we were going on that order, you had no right to change that, no matter how personal you think it is to you."

Victor's words had no effect on Mark, he continued to stare at the silent screen.

"Mark?" Abby prodded, "We know you cared for her, but you have to pull yourself together."

"Abby's right," Victor said, "We shouldn't fall apart just because one of ours had been taken."

"She's been with them for more than two weeks now," Mark said angrily, "We're not getting results, for all we know they could've _killed_ her by now."

"Or they would have made a controller out of her." Mickey pointed out.

"No." Dominic spoke up for the first time that day, "They wouldn't."

"Why not?" Abby sounding surprised turned to the quiet French boy.

"Because we'd have seen her by now, I think." Dominic shrugged. "Don't you agree that the Visser would have used her to intimidate us? Maybe set a public appearance or something?"

"Dominic does have a point," Victor allowed, "But I don't get her disappearance, we don't know what really happened to her."

"We know they got her." Mark said coldly, "Isn't that enough?"

"We don't know that they still have her." Mickey made a sound of deep annoyance, "Nothing is killing me more than Mark's childlessness, wake up man, she doesn't give a rat's rear for you, why don't you get it?"

Mark growled and started to stand up, "Listen you-"

At the same time Victor had jumped up and yelled, "Hey, Mick, that's way out of line."

"No, seriously, why don't you listen to me?" Mickey protested, "We don't know a thing about that girl's history, we give her everything –thanks to Mark- and what does she give us? Squat. Nothing. Nada. For all we know, right now and then she could have escaped the Yeerks and blew us off."

"That does it." Mark spit out, "You and I are-"

"Mark." Victor pleaded, "Please, give what Mickey has got to say some courtesy, look, I'm half way agreeing with his theory, will you listen to us? She wasn't going to stay around with us for long anyway, its better we just forget her."

Mark whirled round on Victor and said, "I don't believe you, I don't believe any of you, we used to stand up together and now look. One of us is captured and you don't give a damn!"

"Mark." Abby said gently, "We used to stand up together _before_ she joined our group, when she came to us she turned our perfectly valid team into a violent pack. Mark…"

But Mark wasn't listening to them; he stood up and started to leave. Victor sighed loudly. It's been that way ever since their team of five beamed a six.

All trouble could be traced back to that terrible moment. The moment they turned to the beautiful foreign girl and reached out for her.

Not knowing behind her wild eyes and frail frame lay a menace, a troubled disturbed girl who had lived a terrifying life of disaster. Who above all things was blood thirsty for revenge and had a desire to kill blindly. She tore them apart; Victor could see that ever so clearly each time he looked at his best friend Mark. His ex-best-buddy, that is.

What he would give to turn back the hands of time, to go to the moment they found the striking girl with wild exotic looks laying beside a river, unconscious and half dead. What he would give to erase the moment he first looked into the hypnotic eyes and said yes to her.

He had said yes to Sixkiller, at that time Sedra, a girl whose troubles extended far beyond his capabilities of foreseeing, it would have been hard not to say yes, in the beginning, she was but a troubled child with soft sad eyes. Little had he known about the poison that existed inside of her.

That was until the Visser started showing great interest in her. That was until she managed to overthrow Victor and became leader of this little resistance.

But most terrifying was the decisions that concerned Sixkiller's involvement in this group, they were not decisions that had been fore planned and worked out before hand.

No, they were impulsive decisions; spur of the moment. You see, the truth was, if the silver dime that sealed Victor and his group's fate had chosen to fall on its head rather than tail, Sixkiller would never have been here to start off with.

For that very same reason, Jimmy would still be alive. And for the same reason, Mark would still be his best friend. In a way he was, but not like the past. He became more violent, bad tempered, so much more ready to hurt.

Mark had turned around, shaking his fist he said, "None of you care. And for that matter, if any of _you_ get caught by the enemy I'd leave you to rot there! You hearing me?"

Abby and Roger glanced at each other then looked away. Nick shifted uncomfortably.

"Mark, wait." Victor felt helpless, on one hand he held his friend's cooperation on the other laid another human's life. But after committing so many crimes, the life of yet another human seemed invaluable.

"We'll give it another try. Okay? We'll hit them hard. Roger's Chapman was a good hit, but I know a better one."

Mark regarded his friend closely, to determine whether he was lying or telling the truth, Victor held his breath.

"I'm listening." Mark said. Again, there were the glances and the shifting around.

"You can choose who it is you want to go with you," Victor said hastily, "And this time we'll write exactly what it is you want. You know, so we get some reaction."

"Okay." Mark said slowly. "I guess I'll settle for that."

Mickey spoke up at that, he didn't seem against the idea, "So, who is the lucky guy?"

"A member close to Chapman, someone named…" There was a moment of silence as Victor screwed his face trying to recall the family name.

"Em, yeah, Tom. Tom Berenson."

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Oh, wow, what's going on? You didn't expect it to come down this way did you? Please review, I'd love to see what you think of my fic, it would help me determine what comes by next. Anyway, thanks, I'll go write the next chapter. 


	4. Eighth Murder

SIXKILLER

I'll explain all about the 'silver dime' later on, I can't fit it in right now, actually, I planed it so you get to know a bit more about Roger's personality. 

As far as characters go, you should by now have discovered that Abby's a bit timid, Victor is unsure about his leadership and Mark is over possessive. This chapter shows a bit more about the friendship between Mark and Victor, plus it has a 'peek' about the sort of person Dominic is in the eyes of Victor, it doesn't mean he _is_ that way. 

As far as Sixkiller herself goes; she's my mysterious character who'll be mentioned later on. Keep in mind that you'll get to know a bit more about the inner personalities of my characters, for instance, you should have caught that despite his huge size Roger is silent and a bit slow in response, what he is inside is a different story. 

I'm jumping the gun aren't I? Well, I do want to explain since a lot of things in my story are only implied –which is what's keeping it in suspense- but I don't want to totally loose you at the same time, fortunately chapter four isn't at all difficult, actually, it's…thrilling – I hope.

_Chapter Four_

Broad daylight, two boys walked silently side-by-side, they did not exchange glances or converse. One simply stared forward while the other casually scanned their surroundings. 

They weren't dressed out of the ordinary, jeans and sweatshirts are the trademarks of the average teen-boy, so no parents regarded them suspiciously. Even though they should have.

The two boys -both Americans- had dark hair and pale complexions, one of the boys had green eyes while the other had brown eyes. They were almost the same height, but the green-eyed boy seemed larger.

Green eyes was the one staring ahead, dark eyes seemed aggravated. After walking for three blocks the dark eyed boy spoke, "Mark, I'm not really convinced."

"Victor, you said we'd give it a last try." Mark snapped, obviously he was not in a good mood.

"You know I said that to keep you from running to the-" Victor paused, looked around and lowered his voice, "you do know what I'm talking about right?"

"No. I have no idea." Mark's infamous temper was starting to flare. His green eyes were freckled with brown specks.

"Okay, okay." Victor said angrily, "I get it, have it your way then. But I am telling you it's never going to happen this way, ever again."

"Whatever you say Victor, you're the boss."

"Why am I thinking you're just saying that for the sake of saying it? These days I don't feel like I'm the leader, no one's listening to a thing I say. And for another fact, no body's listening to whatever the others are saying, all of a sudden half of you seem to sprout a mind of your own." Victor shook his head in disgust. "I worry Mark. I don't know what tomorrow's going to bring, heck man, I don't know what today's going to bring either."

"We know what today's going to bring." Mark said impatiently, "Look, this is the house isn't it?"

Victor sighed, "Yes it's the house."

"He's home?"

"I wouldn't be wasting our time by coming when he's not home."

Mark turned to Victor, "Hey, genius, if he's in there, and we're out here, then how do we go in without him seeing us?"

Victor rolled his eyes, "Sorry, when I said he's here I meant he's going to be here. I sent Dominic to spy out the house yesterday night, turns out his room is the one at the end of the hall."

"Dominic?" Mark remarked slyly, "He's your classic peeping Tom. He loves jobs like these, huh? House at night?"

Victor rubbed his eyes, "There's no treat in this mission, Tom only has a little brother, and if Dominic is interested in _him_, then I think I'll throw up."

Mark did not comment, he simply snorted in trying to keep laughter from escaping his mouth.

"Or maybe resign," Victor mumbled, "I'm loosing my touch as leader of the gang."

"Whatever." Mark said his uneasiness growing "lets go in."

Victor marched to the front door like he owned the place. He pushed open the gate and walked right up to the door.

"Should we at least knock?" Mark grinned slightly.

Victor would have let loose a sigh of exasperation, only he was too pleased to see his old friend remerge. He returned the smile, his hand reached for the doorknob.

"Wait." Mark hissed suddenly, "What about the kid brother?"

"What about him?"

"Like wouldn't he be around?"

"No," Victor shook his head and gave Mark an are-you-stupid-or-what-look, "He'd be in school."

"And Tom wouldn't? I thought he went to college."

"He's taking a day off for the sharing. Can you believe this guy?"

"We better go in before the neighbors get suspicious," Mark said quietly, "remember, not a sound inside."

Luckily, the door was unlocked. After quickly checking the house the boys located Tom's room and found a surprise waiting in there for them.

"Whoa!" Mark mumbled, a dog was sitting on the bed chewing on a rubber duck. Surprisingly, he greeted the boys with a friendly bark.

"I'll take him outside." Victor said, "You wait here."

As Mark waited he barely took note of the room he was standing in, he leaned against a wall and counted the seconds go by.

"Okay, Mark," Victor said coming in the room and leaving the door ajar –just like it was before they came in- "I'll take the bathroom and you stand behind the door. Grab him only after he closes the door behind him. Don't, I repeat, _don't_, give him time to shout out."

"I think I've been through all this before." Mark snapped at Victor's patronizing reminders.

"Just checking man." Victor shook his head and went into the bathroom.

Mark did not wonder towards the window to see when his victim would arrive, fortunately, Victor was doing that; he had a great view from the small bathroom window. He tapped the door to warn Mark.

Mark heard two voices coming towards him, apparently, it sounded like an argument between two brothers. Mark did not pay any attention to the words but listened closely to the tense voices.

On the other side of the door Mark was standing behind; Tom laid a hand on the doorknob, but he did not enter the room, he was too busy trying to make a point to his little brother Jake.

"Don't be such a big jerk, you could hang with Marco anytime you want, the chances I'm giving you don't come by so easily."

"Hey Tom, why don't you get it past that thick head of yours that I'm just not interested."

"I've got influence Jake, you know that, I could give you any position you want."

"I'm not joining the sharing for _you_. I'm sorry, but I don't dig the 'be part of something bigger'. I don't want to be a part. I want to stay a whole."

"Whatever man, can't say I didn't try. Your loss."

Tom pushed the door partly in and then paused, he shouted, "Hey, Jake, where'd you put the phone? Are you keeping it in your room again?"

There came a muffled reply and Tom started to walk away from the door. Mark closed his eyes like he had a headache. "Come on." He mouthed, silently urging his victim to come closer. Mark opened his eyes and again he urged silently, "_Come on!_"

"Here it is," Mark heard a kid's voice say from the hallway, "Remind dad to get the cordless fixed, it's a pain having to carry all this around."

"You tell him." Tom muttered as he pushed open his door and started to punch the numbers in, "It isn't my problem."

Tom pushed the door closed as he got in, and immediately walked towards the window. Before Tom could finish dialing he discovered a very large , very sharpserrated blade pressed against his throat. The grip on his body was unyielding. A cold voice hissed in his ear a three word command; "Don't even breath."

Tom's entire body froze; the phone dropped and hit the bed right side up. Tom was a fit boy even though he didn't work out often, but he could toss a good fight if needed. Judging by the hands that grabbed him, it would not be a good idea to ignore the command, especially since another boy entered the room. Tom was outnumbered and worst still, caught off guard. He hadn't the slightest idea who the two masked boys were.

For Victor and Mark, the black ski masks were necessary, secrecy in this war is the key to survival, and even though their victim and only witness would soon be dead, there was no need to blow their cover.

"What do you want," Tom said quietly, he stared at the two dark eyes that regarded him coldly.

Victor took a menacing step forward, he had no weapon right then in his hand, but he looked threateningly enough. "You don't know why we're here?"

Tom cast a panicked glance at the door, as if expecting some savor from the sky to come down and save him.

The two boys knew that no such thing existed. For them Tom was already finished, but before he official became a 'dead man', Mark had requested that they force talk in him, see what the enemy had to offer.

"Is she with you?"

Tom glanced around nervously, but he said nothing.

"You're a dead Yeerk," Mark said tightening his hold, "Your choices are limited, you could tell us what we want and you die painlessly, you rat us around and we make sure you die slowly."

"Either way I'm dead right?" Tom challenged.

BIRRRRRRING! BIRRRRRRING!

Mark jumped, he sliced Tom's throat accidentally. He settled down and gripped him firmly. The cut was not terribly deep, but it was drawing a considerable amount of blood, some of it dripping on the light gray carpet.

Victor stared at Mark; somehow his brain had frozen and was unable to react fast.

BIRRRRRRING! BIRRRRRRING!

Tom tensed up.

BIRRRRRRING! BIRRRRRRING!

"TOM! Are you gonna get that or what?!"

"Let the machine get it." Victor snapped at no one in particular. Mark nodded.

BIRRRRRRING! BIRRRR-

At the eighth ring the machine took the call in, in the room, Mark, Victor and Tom were greeted with the voice of a high school girl. "Hi Jake, I know I'm calling soon but with the school letting us out early I thought we'd get together and plan something for this weekend. Anyway, get Marco with you; Rachel will be there as well. Bye!"

"Tom." The voice was outside the door, "Hey Tom, who was on the phone? I was expecting a call. Was that Cassie?"

No answer.

Mark and Victor were faced with the worst situation possible. But then Victor gave Mark the signal. Mark leaned forward and whispered in Tom's ears, "Get rid of him, don't run Yeerk, we'll hunt you down."

Very slowly, Mark loosened his grip, Tom walked towards the door and opened it a fraction, "What?"

"I said, I was expecting a call, was that Cassie?" The voice sounded annoyed.

"Yeah."

"Then give me the phone."

"Use the cordless."

"Don't you listen to anything I say? The cordless isn't working."

"You can't have the phone."

"Oh yeah? Why?"

At this point Mark and Victor tensed up, none of them liked what was happening, and none of them liked how long the conversation was taking.

"I'm using it." Tom sounded provoked.

"You were using it ten minutes ago."

"I'm still using it." He snapped back.

"Tough luck, I want it."

With that Jake shoved his older brother in the room, Tom could have resisted if he was truly Tom, but he wasn't and his Yeerk was waiting for such a moment.

As Jake came in, Tom grabbed him and flung him at Mark who was hovering behind him, Jake screamed in pain as he and Mark tumbled to the ground.

Tom fled the room with Victor hot on his heels.

"What the…?" Jake managed to gasp painfully as he stared down at the knife that protruded out of his side.

Mark too was equally shocked, but he didn't have a knife sticking out of his side, he wrapped his arms around him and tried to pin him down, unfortunately Jake was a bit more ready than that, he managed to squirm free but Mark brought him down and they fell to the ground in a tangle with Jake atop of Mark.

Jake who was sitting on Mark's stomach, ripped off his mask and managed to get a good look at his face. Mark jerked up knocking Jake off him, he grabbed Jake's head and slammed it at the ground; Jake's eyes rolled backwards and he blacked out.

"Damn, damn, damn," Mark mumbled as he jumped off Jake staring at the blood that was starting to drench the carpet..

He quickly ran to the phone and picked up the receiver with his blood stained glove, he dialed in a number, he tapped his foot impatiently looking down at Jake, "Yeah, its Mark. Abby, get the others and secure an escape route, we have a problem."

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Oh my, oh my, what did I do? *gasps* I left you hanging, yet again with a cliffhanger! Did they catch Tom and kill him? What message did they leave? What happened to Jake? Did Mark finish off his error, wiping his sorry mistake off? Sorry Jake, but you just had to yank that mask off, right? Well, your problem, _you _decreased your chances of survival; don't come complaining to me if you end up dead. 

Please review, the more voices I hear the faster I get to finish the fic, it's not that I wouldn't finish it, it's more like I need the motivation. You could e-mail me if you want; phoenix_sol@hotmail.com.


	5. Unfortunate Victim

SIXKILLER

Oh, chapter five is up! It doesn't answer _all_ the questions, but it tells you what happened after Mark left the house.

_Chapter Five_

Mr. and Mrs.Berenson stood huddled together in a waiting room in the hospital's Trauma department. Half an hour ago Jean arrived home to see her youngest son Jake unconscious and bleeding in Tom's room. In her confusion she called her husband rather than an emergency number. Her husband gave her simple instructions and told her to dial nine-one-one. He'd be on his way home.

Steve had been first to arrive on the scene; he quickly aided her in decreasing the bleeding and told her not to remove the knife, as it was the only thing keeping the wound closed.

He then checked the rest of the house for intruders and satisfied himself that only he and his wife were in the house. As the police and paramedics entered the house Steve realized that Tom who should have been home at the time was nowhere to be found. He called the Sharing and they told him that Tom had left them at least two hours ago and said he was going to pick his brother up from school and head home.

The police asked Steve to check with Tom's friends; none of them knew where he was.

The unconscious Jake was already out of Tom's room and was packed into the ambulance with his mother. A policeman escorted his father to the hospital closely trailing the ambulance.

Already an investigation was underway and the police took blood samples from the phone, the large stain on the carpet and the smaller stain by the window.

Of course, the Berensons could barely recall what had happened in the last half an hour, all of it was mixed with the jumble of emotions that surfaced in their minds. They were both worried about Tom's disappearance, they feared that he was going to be a new victim to the mysterious serial killer the media was talking about.

The only thing that kept them together was that their youngest son was alive but in a life threatening situation.

Since he had been left lying for an hour in Tom's room he had lost a large amount of blood, the knife –which has a serious large blade with seriated edges- made a mess out of his internal organs, it penetrated his stomach and managed to tear at his liver.

The doctors discovered that Jake suffered from a concussion but how serious was yet to be determined.

Not long ago, Rachel, Marco and Cassie heard the news and rushed to the hospital. Cassie's parents accompanied them, as did Marco's stepmother Nora. They were all in the Trauma Waiting Room awaiting news from the Head Trauma Surgeon.

The Berensons were grateful for the support; Cassie's family sat closest to the Berensons as they already had established an affectionate relationship with the family of their daughter's friend.

Right now all was silent as they waited anxiously for news. Nora sat close to Marco who was staring blankly at the ground. Steve was taken out of the room to help the doctor's efforts in keeping his son alive, of course, Steve's profession may have been a doctor but trauma was not his specialty, they had called him to donate blood for his son. The hospital's blood bank was low and they did not have Jake's specific blood type anyway.

Fortunately, the father's blood was a perfect match.

When Steve came back to the room Jean asked him whether he saw Jake or not, Steve nodded slowly and told her that he was still unconscious. They took the knife out and they were closing up the damaged internal tissue.

After a longer wait, a middle-aged doctor greeted the concerned party; he introduced himself as 'Head of Trauma Department' and with a warm smile said that their son was stabilizing and Jake regained consciousness.

"Can we see him?" Jean asked anxiously.

The doctor looked hesitant but agreed to her request, under condition that they did not stay long. It was decided that only the Berensons should go in, the others stayed behind in the waiting room.

A drugged Jake struggled to sit up as his parents came in, after fussing a bit over him he managed to get across his message; he needed to speak to Marco.

His parents tried to calm him down, but Jake was already panicking and started to frantically shout for his friend Marco and cousin Rachel.

At this point the doctor advised the parents that it would be better to leave their son alone for a while, he may have confused the events that took part in the house especially after the concussion. They were all listening to Jake's demand that someone should try and 'find out where Tom was'.

But in hearing that Jake knew something about what happened to her eldest son, Jean started to ask Jake what he recalled. He answered this by a wild tale of two masked boys and something about his brother shoving him in the room while not intentionally meaning to.

Both Steve and the doctor urged Jean to leave the room. She was led out of the room in a shocked state, hearing that two armed men were chasing her Tom.

The delayed shock of finding her youngest son stabbed and bleeding in her house and the events that happened afterwards took their toll and she fainted in her husband's arms.

It was only after a while did Cassie's family, Nora, Rachel and Marco manage to hear what happened. All of Cassie's family stayed with the Berensons while Nora offered to see what the police had turned up with.Rachel and Marco were told to leave the hospital as not to worry their parents, surprisingly they did not object.

Only Cassie knew what Marco and Rachel were up to. Only she knew why they were eager to leave.

It really wasn't that big a mystery; they wanted to beat the Yeerks to Tom. Or possibly reach the assailants before they killed Tom.

This was exactly what Jake wanted to tell his friends. Only he was drugged and confined to his hospital bed. Unknown to Jake was the guardian angle who took shape as a fly buzzing around his room protecting him from the Yeerk infested hospital.

Of course, the fly was that secret somebody who got the message across to Cassie, Marco and Rachel. And it was also the fly that talked Jake into calming down. The suddenly calm Jake surprised the doctor and the nurse who had been ready to fully drug him.

This fly being a morph to none other than Ax, an Andalite so devoted to his Prince's well being.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Jake is alive…for now. I'm not sure that he's going to stay alive. Turns out maybe I'd have to kill him…but you'll find out what happens. I'm not going to spoil the fun, I'll keep you hanging. Hehehe.

I want to thank all you people for the wonderful reviews! Thanks a lot! They really helped, I'm working on chapter six now and it's almost done; keep on the look out, its not going to take me long to upload.


	6. What to do with Tom

SIXKILLER

This answers some questions, em actually; it's more about the characters and the arguments that go over why have Tom on the team…

I've decided on Mickey's character, plus, as I mention at the end of the chapter, you're going to meet the real Roger very soon.

_Chapter Six_

Dominic was there when Abby received the call; she managed to get him and Roger to secure an escape route. 

Dominic and Victor kept an eye on Tom as Abby wondered -seemingly lost between them. Victor turned to her and asked her the question that had been bugging him ever since he met up with the rest. "Where's Mickey?" 

Abby shrugged, "I honestly don't know Vic." 

"Why is it that Mickey gets to blow us off so often," Dominic demanded, "What, we're not good enough for Party Boy?" 

"You know that's not true." Victor said tiredly, wishing he hadn't brought the subject up. Mick's parents are really rich. So rich, in fact, that they managed to spoil their only son silly. As a result, money had no value to Mickey. So he'd be going around inviting people to parties or going to parties or hanging out in exclusive clubs and whatever. 

The sad truth was that Mick only fought because of the 'thrill' because he didn't have anything 'better to do'. And who knows? Maybe Mickey hung out with the gang because they were his only 'real' friends. Mickey has lived in the US for over ten years now, the early years of his life has been spent in his home country; Australia. He used to have real 'mates' back in Australia because he grew up with them; unfortunately, the only type of friends Mick could successfully draw in America were ones where he'd end up being used. 

Roger had one hand on Tom's shoulder and was guiding him along, they blind folded and gagged Tom so that he could not see them or see where he was going to, they took a traditional deserted route to Mickey's house, as usual, they bypassed security and hid him in Mick's room. 

After staring at Tom's helpless figure for a while, Abby said, "Lets not kill him okay?" 

"What are you talking about?" Mark grunted as he hefted a bound and gagged Tom into the large walking closet, "We keep him for a little while then get rid of him. There's no other way." 

"Yes." Abby hesitated, "There is." 

They all turned to look at her, Victor shook his head, "No, Abby, you know what happened the last time we took a rash decision like this." 

"Enough of the killing." Abby said, "Besides, he could help us out." 

Mark rolled his eyes, "You got to be kidding. Since when do Yeerks help us out?" 

"No, I meant like after we keep him for three days." Abby looked desperately at the others. "He'd be an ex-controller, he's presumed dead, he'd love a chance to get back at his captors. I know I did." 

Roger looked trouble. He glanced at Abby and then he said, "Abby's right Vic, she does have a point, we'd have a substitute for Sixkiller." 

"Gee, I hope the substitute doesn't turn out to be exactly like Sixkiller." Dominic said dryly. 

"We don't need a substitute for Sixkiller." Mark said angrily slamming the closet door, "We're getting her back. By killing _him_." 

"We don't have to kill both of them." Abby argued, "You're only after one. The Yeerk." 

"How am I going to get the public to know that _I_ killed Tom? How am I going to get the sharing to find out that we are responsible for the death of their second valuable controller?" 

Clever Abby has already planned for this part, it was why she had been silent throughout the journey. She was playing out the argument and running it over and over in her head. She knew how to win her boyfriend's best friend over. She knew Mark just as well as Victor. 

"Simple, we escalate their problem. Instead of turning up with dead bodies we turn up with the dead Yeerks. Right? So they'd be worrying about who comes by and sees their slimy friends as who they really are. They'd keep on trying to figure out where we strike next to cover up." Abby hurried on excitedly, "Basically, we expand our force, gain inside information and liberate Human hosts, how'd you like that?" 

Victor smiled slowly, "I sort of like that, despite the risks." 

Roger shrugged, "How long do you think we'd last? We better double our numbers fast." 

"Hey, hey, hey." Mark said angrily, "Wait up. We're _killing_ Tom. That's what Vic said we would do, we planed for it to happen, what are we waiting for?" 

"New opportunities?" Abby supplied, "Better than killing." 

"Not better than killing, we go according to the plan," Mark turned to his best friend, "You're with me on this, right?" 

"I'm not so sure on that." Victor mumbled. 

Mark appeared taken back, "What?" 

"We planned for it to happen in a certain way." Victor said quietly, "It didn't go 'according to plan', look what sort of mess we made out of the last mission, Mark. So no, nothing is going according to mission; did we plan yesterday to drag Tom all the way here?" 

Mark folded his arms and scowled at the distance. 

Abby stepped up and touched Mark's arm. Mark stared at her hand until she withdrew it. Feeling uncomfortable and trying to sound sincere Abby said, "Mark, you killed Tom's little brother, is that why you don't want him fighting with us?" 

BOOM! 

At this point Mickey barged in the room, the door opened wide on its hinges and slammed at the wall, he stumbled to the ground catching Abby's last statement, he raised an arm and wiped the corner of his mouth with his sleeve, he struggled to get up, swaying he said, "Awww, I missed the party going around here, what did Mark do this time?" 

Ignoring Mickey's arrival and irrelevant comment; Mark frowned at the wall like he didn't understand what Abby had said, he looked at her then at the wall, his eyes suddenly widened and he spun at her, "What?" 

"You don't want to face Tom because you killed his brother. Is that it?" Abby said gently touching his arm again, "You know, its okay, you could tell us." 

Mickey clapped his hands and burst out laughing crazily, Dominic watched all this in amusement, Roger's face was blank. Vic had a tired worn out look. Mick said,"I really did miss something big didn't I?" He slid down to the ground and yawned, "Sorry I'm late, but…em…the boys had me over for some fun and I couldn't help it…I got drunk…" 

Mark yanked his arm away from Abby's hand, Mark wanted to yell something like; 'You witch. You want this to go your way don't you?' 

"I'll just sleep it off now…" Mickey was mumbling he wandered towards his closet, "Got to change man…can't sleep like this. And my shoes…man. Untie…" He leaned down and started to yank his shoes off. 

Mark would only admit to himself that this was an ingenious way to turn the argument around; Abby just knew that Mark would deny the weakness. 

Mickey opened the closet and tossed the shoes in slowly, he cocked his head and blinked, "I really am drunk. What's that doing in here?" Mickey disappeared in the walking closet. 

Mark did want to keep quiet; he didn't want to answer Abby. He knew that if he didn't the others would take it as a sign of weakness and for that reason he answered, "Defiantly not. Do whatever it is you want, it doesn't bother me the slightest." 

There was a loud thud and then the sound of someone scrambling to his feet, Mickey walked out of the closet with perhaps the worst assortment of clothes, he looked over his shoulder and said, "Man, you people better stop inviting people for sleepovers." 

Dominic laughed and said, "I better keep an eye on him don't you think?" Dominic walked over and grinned at Mickey's drunken form, "You didn't dress up properly, mate. Why'd you have that cravat on? And that shirt?" 

Mickey who collapsed on his bed trying to unbutton non-existing buttons, was mumbling mostly to himself, "…and if you do bring them over, put them in the guest room… I keep my clothes in there…" 

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

There's a bit more waiting for you; next chapter decides whether Tom is going to join them or not, plus, much more about Roger's twisted character.

Please tell me what you think, I've got something exciting coming up soon, it's got to do with Jake/Tom and the Animorphs colliding with our gang here; fireworks are going to be expected, especially since I'm thinking of introducing Sixkiller in the story by then.


	7. Roger Spade

SIXKILLER

Okay, I finally explained the deal about the dime, this should clear things up a bit, plus, as I said, I've put Roger in the picture. As you'll see, it's hard explaining him in terms of good and evil, maybe disturbed is the right way to put it.

I deliberately missed out the part that should be in the beginning, instead, I've started the chapter from when Roger catches his younger brother, Robert, after he accidentally wrecked an item in the house by -someway or another- a dime. Yes, I don't know how that happened, but you do know kids right? They've got all these strange creative ways of wrecking the house.... 

_Chapter Seven_

"You see this?" Roger whispered harshly, "Do you _see_ this?" 

The little boy stood quivered, his dark eyes wide with fear; his brother's large heavy hands grasped his petite shoulders so tightly that they started to hurt. 

"Do you know what this is? What it had done?" Roger's eyes were like pools of black ink, they stared intensely into Robert's blue. The poor boy was so shaken with his brother's rapid change of emotion and the startling intensity of his stare that he couldn't answer. He managed to nudge his head a nonexistent inch. 

"_Do you_?" 

The voice was dangerous and very persistent; it had the hiss like quality of a snake before it struck its victim. The boy mumbled his reply, looking at the destruction he had unintentionally caused, "it broke the vase?" 

"No, Robert. No." Roger slowly shook his head, never once breaking eye contact with his brother. For some strange reason Robert had a desire to look away but was too compelled and drawn to his brother's countenance. He had a feeling his brother was going to teach him a lesson that their dead father never had a chance to deliver. 

"This." Roger held the dime in his hand, "This dime, Robert, you don't understand who uses it? You don't know what it is for?" 

"To…to buy things?" Robert whimpered. He had a feeling he had done something wrong. Something he was going to be punished for. 

"No," Robert's iris was as dark as the obsidian vase Robert had shattered to pieces. Roger's blond hair was a few shades darker than Robert's own white. And of course it was obvious that he would never grow up to become his brother's monstrous size. One of Roger's large hands could easily cover most of Robert's skull. 

"No Robert, this dime isn't used to buy things, it's used to…decide," a cruel smile played across his older brother's lips. "Want to see?" 

Totally baffled, Robert nodded his head as not to anger his brother any further. He knew better than to act stupidly when his brother was whispering harshly or using his low voice. It usually meant that if he was pressed any further he would simultaneously blow up and combust everything in his path. 

"I'll teach you," Roger's face relaxed a little as he turned to this simple task. He grasped one of his brother's small hands and used the other to carry a fragment of the broken vase and the dime that broke it. 

Roger led the seven-year-old boy out in the garden and set the broken fragment on the grass. In one of his palms was the dime. He sat down and told Robert to bring over the family's pet, a ten-year-old overfed cat called Meow-wow. 

Robert had much difficulty hefting the large cat towards Roger, it came to him as natural that he had no idea what was going to happen next. For instance, it never crossed his mind as peculiar that Roger would ask him to bring over Meow-wow; Roger never liked that particular cat. In fact, as far as Robert could remember, Roger never liked cats at all. 

Roger nodded as Robert set the cat down. The little boy regarded him with curious eyes, was this a game? What would happen next? It was all too exciting; moments were rare that he would spend any good quality time with Roger. Something bad always happened. 

"Heads or tails?" 

"Tails?" Robert ventured looking at his elder brother. 

Roger nodded down at him, "tails it is then." 

Roger gently lifted the dime, and then, with a movement so fast that only the cat managed to catch, he tossed the coin on his thumb and flicked it in the air. 

The cat cocked its head back and smacked the dime as it fell downwards. Roger quickly put his hand over the dime; he pushed the curious cat away with the other hand and looked at his brother giving him a gentle smile. 

Slowly, Roger lifted his hand and peeked at the surface of the dime, he smiled at it and removed his hand for the little boy to see. The cat came over to satisfy it's over curiosity. 

"I win?" Robert smiled timidly, extremely unsure of his position. 

Roger nodded and said, "Tails, you win." 

With that he grabbed the broken fragment in one hand and brought it down hard on the cat's tail. The cat let loose an animal scream of pain and fled the garden. 

"Tails, you win," Roger repeated over his little brother's screams of terror, he offered him the prize and watched as the little boy recoiled from the cat's severed tail. 

Roger threw back his head and a fit of laughter enveloped him. Robert jumped up and screamed all the way to his room, where he hid, shivering and trembling under the warm protection of his bed's cover. 

Snorting, Roger tossed the tail near the bushes, not far from where the cat was hissing. He stood up and was about to go back in the house to clean the mess Robert made when he heard someone call his name. 

It was Abby, the pretty English girl had a red plaid skirt on and a cream colored blouse, her auburn hair was tied up in a neat bun, she greeted Roger with a warm smile that seemed to radiate from her green eyes rather than her mouth. "Roger its time, they're all waiting for us, turns out he had one day left of his cycle." 

Roger returned the greeting with his own gentlest smile, the black mist over his eyes had long evaporated on first hearing Abby call his name. "But they still want the dime." 

Abby stared at the ground then she drew up her gaze with a quivering breath, "Yes, they do." 

Roger accompanied Abby's side as they took the shortest route to Mickey's house. 

"I don't like the way we do things." Abby said quietly, "Why are we relying on odds?" 

"The odds have been faithful to us." Roger answered simply. "Everything is faire and square." 

"The odds were a child's notion of fairness." Abby snapped, "We're no longer children. We can figure out what's wrong and what's right." 

"Fifty-fifty. The odds are fair, you can't get it better than that, you can't deny it." Roger repeated. 

Abby stopped herself in front of Roger, "No. No, it's been doing us more harm than good. Would you say that having Sixkiller on the team is a good thing?" 

"I kind of liked her." Roger said slowly, "And didn't you? Weren't you happy that there was another girl on the force?" 

"First impressions," Abby said in disgust, "What we learned about her then makes me sick." 

Roger started to walk again, "We'll be late." 

"Tom deserves a bit more than his life tossed on a coin." 

Roger didn't comment on this. 

"He's human, he's a casualty of war, a POW, and he deserves a favor." Abby scowled, "No. It isn't a favor it's his rights. His freedom." 

"You don't know what his capabilities are." 

"We didn't know what Sixkiller was capable of doing." 

"She was Sedra then." 

"A few months from now we could be saying 'he was Tom then'," Abby snapped, "It doesn't matter what the output is, you have to give people a chance. Otherwise you're not human." 

"We'll toss the dime." Roger said firmly, "That's fair enough." 

"No. It's wrong." Abby whispered, "Its dead wrong." 

"We're going to do things according to routine." 

"A belief is what it is." Abby muttered, "A sad twisted belief conspired by kids. It's a sort of religion to you isn't it?" Abby wanted to add mockery to her statement by commenting on Roger's inability to understand anything more than the clear and simple -but dared not to; Roger has always been the most sensitive of the group and treated her decently, it wouldn't be right for her to mock him; he never once did such a thing to her. 

In a strange way Roger has always been Abby's hero. If there ever was something bothering her he seemed to have all the right answers, there was nothing demanding about their friendship, Roger seemed content and satisfied when and if Abby scarified an evening for him; spending it by a quite place and saying nothing to each other. 

It was true that Abby had strong feeling for Victor as well, but it was simply different than her feeling for Roger. Her relationship with Roger was of brotherly affection, and nothing more. Roger, for his part, wasn't complex enough to form a deeper relationship, and all things ended there. 

For Victor, Abby was his savor, a time away from the hardships of life, someone who understood his bitterness of war and suffering of leadership. He was extremely vulnerable these days after the tug-of-war he waged against Sixkiller; he was no longer his old self. He became much more quieter and hesitant, his once lively eyes drained of energy and his warm booming voice tired and empty. 

And it was those same eyes that regarded Abby as she walked into Mickey's room, it was hard not to recall the times things had been easier, hard not to remember their days in the beginning; where every battle was glory to the group. Win or loose, it was the days they live life as a mysterious fantasy beholding powerful friendship and even more powerful enemies; the days she felt like she belonged to the world. That she was allowed to understand the purpose of life, and –more satisfying to her senses- take part in it. 

Life never tastes sweeter than when one brushes closely against death, and friendship never more appreciated when enemies prowled and pondered destruction; when your only key to survival and continuity lay in the hands of whom you loved, and those who love you do not betray. 

Abby was thinking of all this as Roger drew out the dime and the subject was asked his choice. 

As if in a bizarre courtroom that had right to decide who deserved life and who deserved death, the dime –the high and supreme judge- read out a verdict proclaimed by some imaginary jury. 

It was so, that Tom was given back his life and freedom. 

And Mark could do nothing more than stare darkly at the silver object that condemned his downfall. It was clear to him that a new voice may tip the scales dangerously against him, and that he could no longer have full control of the leading voice of justice, their leader third, his comrade second, and his childhood friend first; Victor. 

The already finished leader of a once powerfully coordinated resistance. 

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

You get the point right? Basically, they've reached the point the animorphs reached just as the war was escalating. This gang, unofficially called 'Freedom Fighters' is nearly finished, they've fought in this war for so long they've reached the end; they've been pushed to their limits.

What you will find out is that Sixkiller was this person who shoved them over the cliff, she has changed the style in which they used to do things and destroyed the team by turning them in to this vicious pack, they're sort of in a recovery period and you'll see that Sixkiller had defiant effected on Mark.

Last point, even though I don't really mention it, but Roger considers the Dime as _his_, he's extremely proud of it, well, what passes for proud in his character.

I hope you enjoyed the fic so far, this is just the beginning, there's more intense stuff coming up, but you do understand that I have to set things up first, of course after then, the fun part's out.


	8. Tom...?

SIXKILLER

For those who didn't really get what the dime was about its simple really; the gang didn't debate over the stuff like the animorphs did, instead they flipped a dime to decide, and it happens that Roger is extremely fond of this method.

_Chapter Eight_

"So, how are you doing?" Marco asked his friend with a wide grin on his face, he looked at the food try brought in and said, "I bet Ax could enjoy _that_." 

'That' was a mashed mixture of something white, orange and a larger mixture of green things. Ax looked ready to home in for the kill, the only thing that restrained him was the knowledge that his Prince needed food to restore his health.

Unfortunately, Jake didn't think food was what mattered, "I'm not eating until you turn up with something solid."

"Jake, the things we're turning up with are as solid as your food. Which," Marco looked down at the steaming tray, "is not very solid."

This was one of the rare occasions that Jake acted so stubbornly on behalf of his safety, usually he had a bit more sense than that.

"So by the time we turn up with something solid you'd probably turn up in the morgue."

There was a considerable length of silence that followed with Ax's "What is a morgue?"

Another silence.

"Okay, okay." Marco said to Jake's long face, "We'll try to get something but don' get your hopes up too high."

"I don't care. As long as it's something-" Jake looked down at his food and pushed the plate away, "something solid."

"By the way." Marco said, walking up to the window of Jake's private room, "Nora talked to the police, turns out some of the blood was Tom's."

Jake sat straight as a billboard, "Couldn't you tell me this any sooner?"

"I didn't want to worry you." Marco looked away from the window and turned to face Jake, "We are trying to look for something Jake, we really are, I already contacted Erek and told him to be on the look out, you know the sharing is looking out for Tom too."

"I want to reach Tom before they do." Jake said with clenched teeth, he looked down at himself, "I shouldn't be here. Marco, I could just walk away."

"Don't morph Jake." Marco said seriously, keeping his voice down, "Its too dangerous. It would call attention to yourself."

Ax nodded his human head, "Prince Jake, Marco is correct, you shouldn't morph, it would undoubtedly heal you, this will highly puzzle your doctors and the sharing might get suspicious."

"I'm not liking this." Jake muttered darkly, "I don't like this at all."

The door opened and in came Jake's parents, Jean and Steve. Marco looked up, genuinely startled, "Hi Mr and Mrs.Berenson. I hope you're feeling better today."

"Hi mom, dad." Jake mumbled.

"Listen, Marco, we really appreciate your coming here and staying with Jake." Steve said as he sat on the bed beside Jake and ruffled his hair, "We don't know what we'd have done, with all the police investigations and the search going on." Steve sighed.

"Who me?" Marco joked, "I'm just keeping Jake company, you should thank Philip here, he's doing the entertainment."

Ax looked away form Jake's food, "Yes. I've been telling them jokes." 

"Really?" Steve said good naturedly, "Let's hear one."

"No! No, em, that would be a bad idea" Marco looked panicked, he walked over to 'Philip' and slapped his back, "Bad jokes, man, real bad jokes."

"Jake honey how are you feeling?" Jean said she bent over and gave Jake a little kiss on the head.

Jake flushed and squirmed slightly, "Fine."

"Actually, the food is terrible." Marco said brightly, "Could I get him something decent to eat? Like McDonalds? Burger King? Pizza? Maybe a bag of chips?"

Jean turned to Marco, "Not really, I'd like it if Jake stuck to whatever it is they're giving him." She looked down at the tray and her face brightened, "Oh, look Jake, broccoli."

Jake screwed up his face, "No thank you. I already noticed."

"How about carrots?"

"Not really."

"The salad they brought in?"

"How about just killing me?" Jake muttered looking over at Marco with a 'get-rid-of-them' look.

Marco shrugged as if saying, "You're on your own."

"So Philip." Steve said, "I don't think I've seen you before. Are you new to he area?"

"He is." Jake and Marco said at the same time, everyone turned to stare at them.

"I am highly capable of speaking for myself." Ax muttered.

"He's a bit weird." Marco gave a fake smile. "You need time to get use to him."

"So, how were the first nights?" Jean asked her son, "I hope you slept well."

"I did." Jake squirmed again; there was something highly uncomfortable about being cross-examined by his mom in front of his comrades.

"Well I cleaned the mess in your room." She said, "I'd like it kept that way when you come back."

Jake sighed, "Yes mom."

Steve stood up and wondered towards the window. Jake looked at his father and said in an even voice, "You think they'll find him?"

Steve turned around and Jean looked away, "I hope so son."

The door opened and a breathless Cassie appeared, when she noticed Jake's parents she forced calmness in her voice and tried to compose herself.

"Cassie," Steve looked surprised.

"Mr.Berneson, Mrs.Berenson, hi. I-" She hesitated, and looked around, "I- did they tell you?"

"Tell us what?" Jean stood up.

Cassie looked like she was on the brink of crying, "What they found near the Sharing center."

"What did they find?" Jake looked alarmed.

"They found his clothes." Cassie said, she looked confused, "Tom's clothes."

Jake froze completely.

"They _what_?" Steve jumped up.

Jean gasped and her hands flew to her face.

"They want to talk to you." Cassie said to Steve and Jean, she looked at Jake's stone face helplessly, "To identify the body."

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Ohhh, what happened? For those who liked the cliffhanger; you're happy now aren't you?

I know that there is confusion between the deaths, but it is going to be cleared up pretty soon, you'd realize why I kept the issue under a considerable amount of confusion, after all, how many times can I kill Tom?

I promise that I'll send the next part just as soon as I get enough reviews, which may be soon or not soon enough-depending on demand (I'm cruel aren't I?)


	9. Abby the Innocent

SIXKILLER

"Is Tom dead?" "Is Jake dead?"- I'm loving this; confusion in the air, oh well all happiness must come to an end; I cleared everything up, and just to make it extra clear; Tom thinks Jake is dead and Jake thinks Tom is dead, so there. Happy?

_Chapter Nine_

"You think it worked?" Tom asked quietly.

"Worked?" Mark questioned, "Are you crazy? They probably feel for it. They'd never figure it out."

"I don't know, what about the Yeerks?" Tom said. "They aren't that stupid."

Mickey rolled his eyes, "Take my word for it; they are that stupid. Look, we gave that skull a mirror copy of your teeth, and the body is so badly burned forensics wouldn't turn up with anything but ashes. We used a dracon beam, mate; nothing beats complete incineration by dracon beam. We left the head so they could compare. You did say that your dentist has an x-ray of your jaws, right?"

"Yeah." Tom looked uneasy. "You think your remodeling technique is that good?"

"If it wasn't that good I'm getting my money back." Mickey said frankly, "Besides, we trust our old boy Benny, he's fixed us up a couple of times and we had no problems. Should be a walk in the park, this."

Mark, Abby, Mickey and Tom were sitting in Mickey's room, which was large enough to hold the entire group- but of course the rest of the group were not present. Tom Abby and Mark were sitting behind a wooden table while Mickey paced around the window and Abby looked at Tom.

"So now, my parent's would think I'm dead, my brother too. Huh?" Tom stared at the ground.

Abby gave Mark a threatening look and he squirmed, "Listen Tom, there's something we should have told you."

"Oh yeah?" He played around with Mickey's car keys.

"You remember when your Yeerk shoved Jake in?" Mark said.

"Uhuh." He flipped over the medallion and stared at it, engraved in the golden plate were the words '_Freedom Fighter_'

"He sort of ended up with a knife in his gut."

The medallion slipped from Tom's finger and it clunked on the wooden table, he pushed back his chair and said, "What?"

Mark did not offer a replica of his report, just waited for Tom to react.

Tom's face paled, "Oh my god."

No one said anything, Abby sat beside Tom. "We're sorry Tom."

"I killed him."

Abby shot Mark a poisonous look then turned to Tom, she held his hand, "No, it wasn't like that at all."

"I killed my brother."

"Tom," Abby said firmly, "It wasn't like that, it wasn't your fault, it was that Yeerk. And he's dead now. We left him with what's supposed to be the rest of you."

"Oh god." Tom whispered.

Abby looked at Tom helplessly, "It was our fault, we shouldn't have been there anyway."

Mark stared at Abby and gave her a what-do-you-think-you're-doing look?! She didn't shut up. "We shouldn't have tried to get your Yeerk in the first place. We should have struck when you were alone. Its how we used to do it."

"Abby." Mark said glaring at her, he stood up and grabbed her arm, "I want to talk to you."

"Let go Mark," Abby said, "Leave me alone."

"I said I want to talk to you." Mark said coldly, he yanked her off the chair.

"Ow! Mark! You're hurting me!"

Tom looked up alarmed.

"You're right I am." Mark hissed, "And you're coming. Now."

"Hey Mark," Mickey said timidly -he looked a little worried, "Let the girl go."

"Abby." Mark threatened, "I said come."

Mickey drew closer. Tom stood up, "hey, if she doesn't want to go then she shouldn't."

"That's none of your damn business." Mark hissed.

Tom walked over to Abby and laid a hand on her shoulder, he turned to Mark, "What's your problem?"

Mickey hovered around looking confused.

"Nothing's my problem." Mark said nastily, "I just want to talk to the girl here, if that's okay with you."

"No, that's not okay." Tom said politely, "Seeing that she doesn't want to talk to you. Let her go." With that Tom put a hand on Mark's arm.

"Hey, you." Mark snarled at Tom, "Get your hand off of me. If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't be standing here moving your arm, you'd have had that Yeerk doing it for you."

Surprised and not quite absorbing what Mark was saying, Tom withdrew his hand. Anger registered a few beats later; "You don't expect me to thank you for very little thing you did?" Tom's eyes narrowed, "So I suppose you'd want me to thank you for killing my brother too, huh?"

"Boys." Abby said weakly. She looked at Mickey.

Mark stared at Tom for a long time. "Come on." Mark yanked Abby along.

"Mark!" Abby yelped, she tried to pull her hand free of his grasp, "_What_ is your problem?"

Mark ignored her, he yanked her a good few yards towards the door, Abby stumbled and barely managed to stay upright, "_Let go!_ Let go I say! Sto-ahhhhh!"

Mark whirled around and struck Abby across the face, the strong blow caused her to fall on her knees to the ground.

"DAMN YOU! You just have to mess up _everything_!" Mark hollered angrily.

Abby wrapped her arms around herself protectively, she didn't stand up or try to counter what Mark was saying, her shoulders shook silently.

"HEY!" Tom yelled, partially shocked and partially confused.

Mark paced in front of Abby, and then he looked down at her heaving shoulders, his face twisted in disgust, "Oh, _crap_. That's the only thing you're good at, I don't even know why you're fighting along side us. This isn't a job for girls."

Looking extremely disgruntled and generally pissed off, Mark stormed out of the room.

Mickey licked his lips and before bounding out of the door he uttered a hurried explanation; "I better keep him out of trouble. Freaking coppers everywhere."

Tom walked over to Abby and regarded her with a helpless expression; only she was too busy crying into her hands to notice it.

"Abby?"

When there was no reply, Tom touched her shoulder to get her attention; she looked at him with a tear-streaked face, "I'm so sorry." She whispered bitterly.

"No, don't be." Tom hesitated, awkwardly he said, "Come on, Abby, please don't cry."

Abby shook her head and buried it in her hands, "Leave me alone." Her voice was muffled and far away.

"No, Abby, come on, let's take a walk, okay? It's the least I could do." Tom wondered how he was suddenly thrust in this awkward situation. He badly wanted to get out of the house but he didn't have the heart to leave the girl alone.

"It's hopeless," Abby sobbed bitterly, "Nothing's going back to normal, it's going to stay like this forever."

Again, Tom looked at Abby feeling highly uncomfortable, "Abby, don't cry, please, I…" He wanted to say that he didn't like watching girls cry but it would have came out all wrong. Instead he tried to resolve the problem, "I tell you what, why don't I take you to a nice quite place where we could sit down and talk, maybe eat something?"

Tom offered his hand to Abby.

Slowly Abby lifted her head and hesitantly gripped his hand, and by doing so, she knew that she would inevitably spill out the history of her group.

She didn't know if it would be a good thing or a bad thing to do; she blamed it on Victor for not being there to help support her and provide guidance.

For that reason, it seemed a fair enough decision on her behalf.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Ohhh, Abby's up to something, however unintentionally. I love this girl, where she goes so does confusion, trouble and messed up plans go with her. Poor, poor Abby, *sigh* What did Mark do to you? Somehow I always see her as the last person who understands what's happening around here. She's so innocent you know, like spending a night with Tom isn't going to complicate a billion other things. Review, pretty please?


	10. Jimmy Young

SIXKILLER

There is a surprise in this chapter, remember Jimmy? I mentioned him briefly in chapter three,  he's a supposedly 'dead' member of the gang, and who killed him? Yours truly; me! (Joking its Sixkiller) Anyway, there's more about that story, plus Tom uncovers a link between Jimmy and…well, find out.

_Chapter Ten_

"We call ourselves Freedom fighters. But to tell you the truth, I don't think that was what we were fighting for in the past few months.

"Honestly Tom, we used to fight the Yeerks hard and right, we didn't do anything out of line. We didn't kill controllers, well, the human controllers we didn't, we killed Hork-Bajir all right, I've always hated them, they seem like they were created only to kill, that's exactly what they do anyway, and Taxxons? These disgusting cannibals; they're hardly sentient! So no hard feelings spent there.

"Mark used to be a sweet boy, he wasn't ever so violent as he is these days, I…I don't know what to tell you about him, there would be no point for me to tell you what he used to be like, I'd be trying to justify what he did, only I can't. You see…it isn't easy trying to explain what happened, you see, there was this girl who joined us, she was Sedra then…"

Abby swallowed and decided to push the issue, "There was no way we could tell, none of us knew exactly what we were dealing with, first time we saw her she looked like she could barely lift a hand to kill a butterfly, and to think we nursed that bitch back to heath so she could-" Abby drew in a quivering breath, Tom looked at her with wonder, she managed to contain her suppressed anger and continued, "as for Mark; it was love on first sight. I've heard people say 'love knows no boundaries' and 'love is blind' but this, this was ridiculous."

Abby stopped in front of a particularly tall tree; Tom had decided they should take a walk in the forest, away from civilization, "she put a spell on him, that witch. Actually, she managed to weave her charm on all the boys, I swear they were blind to everything she did." Abby glanced down at her tea and said in a high mocking voice with a heavy foreign accent, "Would you mind doing this? I was counting on you to figure it out, Mark. Victor, are you sure you don't oppose my temporary control over the group? Mickey we wouldn't mind it if you slipped in a couple of dollars on this, and Roger, can you help me with this? Its heavy. Jimmy you can take the surveillance shift today, I know you don't like the pool. Abby, you don't mind me spending the night with Victor do you?"

Abby curled her fingers around a low hanging branch and a tranquil expression entered her soft eyes, she looked at the branch with wonder and said, "If only this is your neck Sixkiller, I swear I'll-" Tom reached out and touched Abby's arm.

"You really hate her don't you?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Abby shook her head wistfully, then her expression turned to sorrow, "She killed Jimmy."

"Jimmy?" Tom questioned.

Abby nodded miserably, her auburn hair was a dark brown with a tingle of red beneath the silvery rays of the moon, "It used to be Victor, Mark, Mickey, Dominic, Jimmy, Roger and me." She sighed, "What would I give for it go back like it was. Jimmy didn't really have a heart for killing animals, let alone people or sentient aliens." She smiled a bit, "He used to invite me over to his family's farm, it was the first time I met black people in America, I've met the ones in Britain. I don't know why people discriminate against them. It was cozy in there. It wasn't like a normal day in Britain but it was close enough for comfort, I used to be a farm girl you know, before I came here. I have a thing for farms."

Abby shed tears, "I…what happened to Jimmy was terrible. You see, his family never mourned for him, they never got to know what they lost. What Sixkiller did was truly vile, and that's what scares us about her. Why she managed to get control over us."

"What did she do?" Tom asked. He led Abby to a fallen log and they both sat down, in front of them was a spectacular view of a small lake, the entire meadow was bathed in the moonlight, and looking up, the sky was dotted with billions of twinkling stars.

"I don't know how she did it, I don't really know why, I guess you'd have to speak to her about it if you're curious, but I don't advise that, she's so secretive-" Abby shook her head, "You could look up Jimmy in any data base in the world and still you wouldn't find his records."

Tom looked puzzled, "What do you mean? She wiped his identity? But that's impossible, isn't it? His teachers would still recognize him, his family would too.'

"It isn't like that Tom." Abby said, she fidgeted slightly, she stopped and continued, "Sixkiller didn't just wipe Jimmy's identity, she wiped his timeline, completely, his family and the entire world doesn't know he ever existed."

"How do you mean?" Tom looked worried.

"I…I told you I don't know how she does it, but she has the power to meddle with time, and, I don't know _what_ Jimmy did or discovered about her that caused her to do this to him. I don't know, maybe she wanted to teach us a lesson or something," Abby looked frustrated, "But no one, no one in the universe but our group and maybe god, knew that a boy named Jimmy ever existed.

"I think this incident with time effected the sister, but I don't know, could have caused her to become an abnormality in space time continuum, she was attached to him, I hope she remembers some part of him subconsciously, I don't think I could face a world that could so harshly forget a gentle person like Jimmy. My heart still aches for him. I really wanted to visit the family again, but I couldn't, they wouldn't have remembered me."

Tom looked at her. It just occurred to him what sort of depth the Freedom Fighter's problems were bordering; he certainly didn't know how to help them.

"Tell me about Jimmy's family." Tom said quietly, he gazed deep into Abby's clear green eyes, "If that would make you feel better."

Abby nodded, she brushed a fallen leaf from her plaid skirt, "It would, he was such a sweet boy, he wasn't a single child, he had a little sister, she'd be about Jake's age by now"–Abby noticed the pang of sorrow that crossed Tom's face-"He had parents, they are decent people too, kind, warm, they liked me, they remind me of my own folks, but my folks weren't vets, these people are. They had a barn too and it was a sort of rehabilit-"

Abby stopped, she regarded Tom's startled expression with surprise, "What is it Tom?"

"What is Jimmy's sister's name?" Tom said breathlessly.

"Jimmy's sister?" Abby looked puzzled, "Why, she's called Cassie."

"I know her." Tom whispered, "she's my brother's girl friend -was- my brother's girl friend, he'd never admit it."

What Tom didn't add was that she was the person who made his freedom possible, and simultaneously, caused the death of his little brother.

Maybe she was an abnormality in space-time continuum, if so; maybe she'd have answers. Or maybe she'd know something they didn't.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Yahhhhh! How do I come up with things like this? I just have to make things more difficult. Grrr. I have to go and figure out what to write next. Or possibly wait for a life saving burst of inspiration…hmm…I wonder which one is going to come first…. 


	11. Two who seek comfort

SIXKILLER

This chapter opens more of Abby's history, pay some attention to it, its not that relevant but it helps you understand what sort of person Abby is -and of course I wouldn't forget adding a little excitement in the end, and no, it's not what you're thinking...it's a chase. Well, sort of. And it proves exactly how unfortunate Abby is capable of becoming. *sigh* she's breaking my heart.

_Chapter Eleven_

It was semi darkness in the forest with the sun a good hour away from rising. Tom and Abby had spent the night in the forest; they slept beside the log and huddled against the chilly night.

Tom was awake; he had stood up and approached the bank of the lake gazing in wonder at the horizon; wondering what would be brought on by today's rising sun. It was Tom's best night yet, Abby spent the late hours talking to him; last night's conversation took a sharp turn back to normality, with Abby talking about her harsh Irish childhood and Tom about his own family.

Abby said she was an English girl technically, but her mother is –was- an Irish woman, and she spent most of her life with her in the north, it was only on rare occasion did her father drop by from England to say hello. Well, half of the time was devoted to telling her mother what a 'wonderful bitch' she was, and Abby used to go outside to the fields every time her father came around, it was the only way she had to keep herself from getting hurt, her father only came to visit them after he spent his night in a bar and he visited in the early morning hours.

But Abby's life wasn't without delight; she used to work in a ranch rearing purebred horses and took personal care of a star stud called 'Rudy Robber'. Her prime hobby was horse riding, her interests? Horses. Her dream? Owning a purebred.

How did a girl like her end up loving a guy like Victor? It came to her impulsively; she has this thing with the leader types. Did she enjoy fighting the Yeerks? Used to, when the gang was all fine and Vic could laugh at himself and Jimmy's soft eyes were there to tell her how everyone and everything was special.

And what had she asked him? Who is your role model? Dad. What's your hobby? Basketball –former Basketball star player- and driving Midget nuts. What's the name of the girl you first loved? Pretty girl named Cindy. What about her? Don't want to talk about it. What, was she a heart breaker? You could say, wasn't her fault though, she dragged me into the sharing you see...

Tom closed his eyes, was it that far back? His attraction to Cindy was a fatal one. And how many months had past? Were they easy to count? It was better to leave it alone; after all he was free wasn't he? His days of slavery were gone and over. Past. History.

Tom gazed at the sleeping form of the Irish girl. No he wasn't free at all. Just thrown in a new complexity.

Tom wondered back to where Abby was sleeping. He dared not go back to the spot he'd been lying down at. Tom couldn't remember exactly when it was he fell asleep but it was with the dying conversation of star constellations and horoscopes, Tom and Abby laid down together and started identifying the different star groups; Big Dipper, Little Bear, Pegasus and the famously bright North Star was discovered by following Big Dipper's line, the last thing he remembered uttering was Orion the hunter and listening to Abby's tale about Orion.

She remembered that Orion had fallen in love with Merope, a daughter of some king whose name she could not remember, the father rejected the marriage of the two and Orion tried to gain possession of the maiden by resorting to violence, he however lost his sight by some mythological god and turned to seek shelter from a goddess, who later killed him for his affection to the goddess of dawn, hence, he was thrown to the heavens to become the present constellation.

Tom told her his Zodiac sign was Leo. And she responded with a gentle smile saying that she sensed it; Tom had been completely puzzled.

Tom yawned; he sat on the dead log and waited patiently for Abby to wake up. And just as the sun started to climb the sky, she did.

"Slept tight?" Tom asked her.

Abby nodded and stood up; she looked around the area with sad eyes. "So beautiful yet so little time to enjoy it."

"Maybe you should go home." Tom said, "I know you said you hated your father but I bet he's worried."

"No he wouldn't be." Abby said a bit coldly, "He's be sleeping on the floor with a dozen empty beer bottles. Don't worry about that."

"Sorry."

Abby started to say something but stopped herself, "Me too."

After a moment of silence Abby started walking towards the lake, "I'll wash up a bit, it wouldn't take long."

"Take as long as you like." Tom said smiling. "It's not like I have anything to do, do I?"

Abby laughed a little at that, "Yeah, I guess so."

Tom nodded and took his position on the log, his back facing the lake, it was only because of that was he able to glance at what flitted out of the trees.

It was an Andalite, it was quite a distance away, and it was standing still, staring at him as if it was shocked.

Tom gasped out loud, "ABBY RUN!"

"What is it Tom?" Abby's alarmed voice floated towards him with the gentle breeze.

Without wasting so much as a second, Tom whirled round and bolted. As he did so he hollered madly, "ABBY! Run, don't look behind you JUST RUN! ITS VISSER THREE!"

As his feet pounded the ground he could see Abby racing full out yards in front of him. But for some reason she was slowing down, "Abby run!"

"Tom," Abby finally stopped and turned to look back, "I'm not leaving you behind, come on!"

"Abby run! I'll catch up!" The words tore at his throat. "You go I'll-aah!"

WOOMPH!

"Argh!" Tom found himself suddenly falling towards the ground.

"TOM!"

"I'll keep him busy!" Tom shouted, as his vision clouded "Get the hell out of here!"

"_Tom!_"

"Go! Go! Go!" He could see the Visser coming towards him, galloping full speed. Far in front, Abby had finally started running again, he quickly lost sight of her as she hit the forest line.

Abby may have been running as fast as she could, but she felt as if each leg weighted like heavy iron, each step she took, took her away from Tom, and towards safety. She was heading for the city, she knew the way, in no time, she found herself back to the route they had taken.

When she reached the end of the route, Abby stopped running and doubled over. A panting, gasping, and crying Abby threw up.

The Yeerks had Tom back.

And it was all her fault.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Poor, poor Abby, everything's her fault isn't it? Tom's either going to become a host or be sliced up by the Hork-Bajir. *sigh* life may be sad but wait to find out what really happens, I may change my mind and end it happily :-)


	12. Trade off

SIXKILLER

I want to say this to all of you who reviewed my story; Thanks a lot!

_Chapter Tweleve_

"You see what I'm talking about? Totally unreliable! Absolutely and utterly pathetic!" Mark raved, "Victor, you better get your act ready, today we'll decide. _Today_!"

Abby standing helplessly in some imaginary sidebar, started to protest, "But I only thought-"

"Oh, you _only_ thought." Mark retorted, he turned to her and shouted, "Abby sunshine, _don't think_, let _us_ do the thinking, this way, we'll be better off!"

"But I-"

"Oh yes, but you, it's always _you_ isn't it? We always have to listen to _you_." Marks eyes burned fiercely, "Look at what sort of trouble you put us in."

"Victor," Abby looked helplessly at him, "Vic?"

"You're finished Abby." Mark started walking towards her, she cringed and backed away, "You're done for, you hear me? You're going to pay for your mistake very dearly, honey, you'll be lucky if you paid with your life, what I have in mind for you…" Mark trailed off his eyes frenzied with fury.

Timidly, Mickey spoke, perhaps it was because he saw himself much out of line, he'd never truly ask to mangle with Mark –no one was stupid enough to- but he had to do something, and it looked like Dominic wasn't going to say anything, Roger had a confused look to his eyes, like maybe he needed someone to explain the situation for him, "Shouldn't we let Victor handle this, its his job mate. We know Abby did something wrong but surely-"

"But surely you'll SHUT UP!" Mark roared, he spun to confront Mickey, his fists clenched and his arms ready to swing.

Mickey took a step back, Roger sensing a fight at hand stepped forward, he may not have understood exactly what was going on but he knew that no one should be fighting. No one fights in meetings, it was just all talk, and it was Roger's job to keep it that way. "Mark. Back off."

Reluctantly, Mark did. And it wasn't because he was afraid of Roger, well, he was, he would never win a one-on-one combat with the large boy –which was what worried him- but besides that Roger was an easy enough person to deal with, Mark didn't want to add more enemies to his list, especially since Roger seemed to hold a special relationship to the girl.

"What do you think Victor?" Mark raised an eyebrow as if challenging his friend to deny the charges he presented.

"He's right." Victor said tiredly, his eyes were blank and vacant of energy, he seemed to be witnessing the event from far away.

As for Abby, it was like a blow in the face, she took a step back, "What did you say?" She whispered, hardly believing what she heard.

"He said I'm right." Triumph beamed from Marks eyes he smiled cruelly at Abby, keeping an eye on her face he spoke to Victor. "I'm going to see to it that Abby gets what she deserves."

He paused, smiled at her and went on in a business like manner, "seeing that it was Abby's fault that she let Tom fall back to the Yeerks, and with him, of course is our secrets, she will no doubt participate in mission double B. Do you agree with this assignment Victor?"

"Yes." The dim look in Victor's eyes was there. He stared emptily as the opposite wall of Mickey's room.

"Pardon moi, les amis" Dominic said, "but mission double B?"

"Mission Bring Back."

"What? We haven't hard of that." Mickey shot a look at Victor.

"I had the opportunity to hold a conference on this mission." Mark's smile grew wider.

"What conference?!" Mickey exclaimed.

"We weren't invited." Dominic objected.

"Of course not French boy;" Mark snarled, his expression liquidated into pleasure, "It was a secret conference with the joint heads of resistance; that would be me, second in command and Victor, first in command."

"But-" Roger started, looking at Victor in confusion.

"Ah-ah-ah." Mark cautioned with a shake of his head, "But nothing. There was no need to inform any of you."

"What is this mission about?" Dominic questioned looking at Abby's doomed face; she had it figured out even before Mark started explaining.

"Mission double B; mission Bring Back's object is basic, simple, and foremost; straightforward." Mark smiled as he turned yet again at Abby and sealed her fait, "We will launch a trade off."

"What trade off? With who?"

"We want Sixkiller back, right? And we don't need Abigail here do we? Do any of you see a connection here?" Mark smiled sweetly, "It's really simple Roger, we will swap the two; do you dig me boy?"

Mark walked right up to Abby and flicked at her auburn hair, "I'm so sorry, Abby, but you had your chance and sadly…" Mark turned his head glancing at Victor, then he looked back at Abby again, "You mucked up pretty bad, Sunshine."

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Ohhhh, no, how many times did I say 'Poor Abby'? Countless! She just doesn't know how to keep that keen nose of hers clear of trouble, the story is getting a bit more exciting and dramatic, huh? You'll get to see some action after all!

By the way, when Mark said 'Today we'll decide' he was telling Victor that they should decide who they'd trade to get back Sixkiller. Of course the trade involves double-dealing and so on, but hey, anything so that Mark gets back his beloved possession.

P.S (not that I'm writing a letter) review!


	13. Tom Berenson

SIXKILLER

Sorry about the unusual delay, usually I'd have the next chapter up and running long before this, I'm writing three chapters ahead, you see, there maybe some huge delays later on –okay maybe I'm exaggerating a little, but that would be unlikely. 

If it ever happens please be patient! I'm going to move to a new house (chaos, chaos, chaos and more chaos) the ups of this is that I get my own room! (yes, after sharing rooms for so long I'm sick of company, or well, just sick of my sister -and my brother who isn't that far away on any given day -hey does that rhyme?) 

Aaaaaannnnd (big, big annnnnnd) I'm getting the pet kitten(s) I've been waiting for (can I put in that I've waited for over eight years for this?!! My mom isn't so pleased though, but gosh, if you're as patient as I am you _get_ what you want ;-) 

Wow. I'm one excited girl, hey, that's a benefit for you people, that means more inspiration even though exams are going to flog me soon! 

Anyway, enjoy, I'm glad I didn't have to write this chapter now, otherwise I'd have screwed it! I'm sooo hyped up!

_Chapter Thirteen_

Tom's heart sank when the Visser stopped galloping and trotted confidently up to him. But no matter how scared he felt he stood up and faced his greatest foe, he wasn't about to give up his freedom _again_.

He went down fighting the first time, and down at the first time meant slavery. Down the second time would mean sweet death, another kind of freedom.

The Visser stopped, Tom?

"I'm not going back." Tom said bitterly, "You'd have to kill me to make me go back."

The Visser took a faltered step back, I see, you are mistaken.

Tom stared.

I am not the Visser, I am a member of the so called 'Andalite Bandits'.

"Bull shit!" Tom cried out, hastily he added, "Em, no I meant that was unexpected."

Yes, for me too. You see Tom, we thought you were dead.

This time Tom was the one who took a step back, "You people keep tabs on who goes down?"

No, just the controllers who interest us.

"And I interest you?"

Very greatly.

"I'm supposed to be faltered?" Tom didn't know what else to say, he was pitting himself up against death and this character -he could obviously see that it was not the Visser now that the tide of terror let loose its steel grip- was the last thing he expected.

"Who are you?" Tom wondered.

I am Aximili-Esgarrouth-Esthil. But you may call me Ax, this is what your brother calls me.

"My brother?!" Tom yelped, "_My brother?_ Excuse me but I really don't understand."

Do not worry. You soon will.

"My brother is dead." Tom continued, ignoring Ax's comment.

Again, you are mistaken; your brother is quite well and will soon be better when he hears of this news.

"My brother is alive?" Tom stopped wondering whether or not Abby made it across safely.

Yes.

"But how?" Tom asked, "They say he was stabbed…"

They?

"He was stabbed, they said he died."

Fortunately for your brother, your mother found him before it was too late. Ax' eyes narrowed, Now tell me, who is 'they'?

"The Freedom Fighters." Tom couldn't get over the news; he dared not to, should he trust this blue alien? The Andalite? "That's what they call themselves."

The Andalite called Ax appeared surprised, There is another resistance pitted against the Yeerk scourge?

"Sort of…" Tom looked at the distant forest, "do you mind? I need to find a friend of mine."

The girl? Ax questioned as they headed towards the forest, Is she another ex-controller?

"Used to be a controller long ago, she's a member of the Freedom Fighters." Tom tried to see if Abby was anywhere ahead. "It's thanks to her I'm alive now."

They were going to kill you?

"My Yeerk basically," Tom sighed, "I'm part of the package."

I see. And you are in the forest because…?

Tom stopped trying to find Abby and turned to the Andalite, "Boy do you ask a lot of questions."

I apologies if it seems that I am prying, but I must gather as much information as I can. Your brother is quite fond of you; he would appreciate a full account of what happened.

"What's this about you knowing my brother?" Tom sounded a little annoyed, "Like when did you meet, I never noticed you know."

Of course you would not, your brother is the leader of a strong morph capable resistance, I am sure you are unaware of that. If you were, your Yeerk would have sent him straight to Visser Three.

Tom stared, "Midget?"

The Andalite looked confused, I am talking about your brother Jake.

Tom laughed, he started walking again, as he talked he swiped at a low hanging twig, "Midget. My Midget doing something courageous, I knew he was all for the good versus evil thing and heroes but…_my midget?_"

Is that what you call your brother?

Tom shook his head in disbelief, "But Jake, it just isn't…." He sighed suddenly, ignoring the impossibility of the situation, "he's alive at least. More or less in one piece."

You must be stunned, after all of what you've been through. The alien said gently. I should take you somewhere were you could rest.

"But Abby…?" Tom said.

Do not worry. We will try to find her.

"We?"

You will know all very soon. The creature said, But first, I have to drop you off with a friend, I am due to hold surveillance in the hospital.

"Why? What's there?"

Your brother is there, and half of the staff are Yeerks.

"Oh, yeah, there's that…"

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Hmmm, maybe I did screw up the chapter, hey, when did I write this nonsense? Does anything happen here? Sorry, I promise more in the next chapter (Don't I always say that when I waste a chapter?)


	14. Abigail Higgins

SIXKILLER

_Chapter Fourteen_

They left her. Alone and tied up, Abby found no comfort in the dark cold sewer connection, especially knowing that it will storm with enemy troops very shortly. She hoped they would be angered with what they saw and terminate her immediately. She wanted a quick death. She didn't want to end up being the Visser's personal pawn.

But wasn't that what Sedra was going through? And hadn't Abby felt safer knowing that the girl was trapped? She felt ashamed of herself, she didn't realize how terrible the feeling was until now. Abby cursed out loud, "Its Sixkiller, it isn't Sedra. And she deserves whatever it is she got."

Did Abby deserve what was bestowed upon her? Abby's shoulders shook violently. She bitterly pitied herself; she had always been the unfortunate victim of her misfortune. Yet she only allowed herself to cry silently, she would not cry out loud. And no matter how many times she had cried –and yes, felt ashamed of crying- in front of the boys, she felt a sort of privacy here, in the dark where no one was watching her.

If Abby's hands were not restricted as they were, she would have reached out and wiped away the tears, only her hands were tied cruelly to her back, and feeling her tears stream across her soft cheek she could not help remembering how it felt to be stroked by her deceased mother; the guardian angel of Abigail's dreams.

The memory of her mother calmed her down, as it always did. Abby would never forget the close resemblance she shared of her mother. Abby did not just have her mother's looks but her mind as well. Though her mother's hair had grown white at the roots and lost its reddish tingle through age, worry had always been evident in her mother's tired green eyes. Although Abby shared her mother's green eyes, they did not have the paleness her mother's possessed, instead they were a brilliant vibrant green that reflected Abby's youth.

As Abby listened to moaning metal sounds echoing across the tunnel, she tried hard to steer clear away from images of death that flashed across her mind's eyes.

Soon, her heart felt as if it jumped against her throat and was desperately trying to claw free, she could not bring back the lovely face of her mother, it was rather lost and out of place in the graphic images of carnage from previous raids.

They came to her in rapid flashes, each one causing her to jerk violently, it no longer matter whether or not her eyes were open or not, she saw the same dark emptiness in front of her, but now, with red and white shadows of the dead.

_They were all people_, her conscience seemed to whisper in her ears, _they were all breathing living people with histories and families to go to._

Did any of her friends have what was considered as a family? No, a thousand times over, no, no, no. It was the world's fault, if only Abby had seen a kinder, gentler childhood she would not have flared this badly. If only her mother was still alive. If only her father cared a bit more about her.

If only Roger's father hadn't died in jail –convicted though innocent he was, if only his mother had strength to raise poor little Robert and big Roger up properly. If only they weren't living in a bad neighborhood. If only his single mother wasn't as poor as she is. If only the universe would remember that a boy named Jimmy existed, if only she could go and speak to the family, maybe tell them what happened. If only Dominic's parents paid any attention to him. If only once did Dominic's mother sit down, pause her busy life and listen to what Dominic wanted, if only his father wasn't so harsh on him. If only, if only, if only!

"If only I didn't loose you Victor!" Abby sobbed suddenly, feeling empty and frustrated, "If only you still cared for me, if only I could have stopped the inevitable from happening."

This time, Abby's crying was louder, no longer mute, "I'm sorry Victor!" she screamed, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

Abby slid down the pole she was tied to, crying and regretting all of what had happened to her, wallowing deeper in her self pity, "You promised you'd always be there for me! What did I ever do to you that was so bad?! You betrayed me, Victor! You betrayed me!"

Abby pressed her head against the pole and started crying out louder, she felt the tears come down faster since she knew she was partially lying, "I'm so sorry, Victor, I'm so sorry I turned away from you. I'm sorry I turned to Tom. I couldn't help it! He was there and you…you weren't! You knew I'd go after him, you knew it! Why didn't you stop me!" Abby screamed at the empty tunnel, her shouts bouncing off the walls, "Why didn't you stop me if you didn't like it, you bastard!"

Abby moaned loudly, "If only, Victor, if only you kept it going stronger, if only it was you coming to me reassuring. You knew it wouldn't last forever, you knew it was one sided, why didn't you fight for me?"

"But the fighting is gone, isn't it, Victor?" Abby whispering to herself now, some corner of her mind witnessed in horror that she was actually speaking to herself out loud, "The days of golden glory are over. No more victories, no more bold talk. Each bite the enemy chews in us hurts, we're all hurting aren't we? No wonder Sixkiller laughed at us when she saw us in the beginning, we must have been fools to her, and of course we were! She's experienced with war, we, we weren't! We didn't know what would happen if it went on long enough…"

Abby's eyes closed at she heard a loud far off banging, she knew it was time, she savored her sweet memories and tried to loosen her bond to reality, "My sweet Victorious Victor, my knight in shining armor…where are you now?"

"Sweet Roger, you wouldn't hurt me would you? If you were here you'd rip me off this pole and carry me home and I'd be in Ireland with mother and I'd be talking to Rudy like it was yesterday telling him how proud I was of him."

Abby's face turned to a tranquil smile, "I'd be riding on you Rudy, and I wouldn't have a care for this world, I wouldn't. I'd take you to the old grand pastures and you'd be happy running and I'd be happy ridding you and mother's calling me -oh she is."

Abby sank deeper in her peaceful shell, savoring every last valuable second knowing that when the enemy came, her shell would be shattered and nothing would hide her.

"I'd be running, Rudy. We'd happy; you and I and mother. We'd be all happy."

Abby shook her head, "Not a thought for this world." She raised her head to the ceiling imagining it dotted with stars, like the night she spent with Tom in the forest, that was the best and sweetest thing that ever happened to her after the war, after people started changing.

Abby cocked her head, "I know a song my mother used to sing for me, mamma, I shall sing it for you now."

Closing her eyes to recall the wordless song, Abby sang, her mother used to be a vocalist, and taught her Abigail a few songs or more. This one was a favorite of Abby's, her mother had sung it to her when she was a child, and there was peace and kindness in the tones.

Abby imagined slowly releasing her soul, a voluntary, out-of-the-body-experience. She would float, seemingly in trance, above herself, and she could see. She could see and hear what happened faintly but nothing would touch her.

BOOOOOM!

The enemy stormed in.

Abby imagined herself far above, witnessing the troops fanning out and securing the perimeter. Watching a baffled Visser who was left to stare at the bonded human female, singing in tranquil peace.

Wondering what on Earth was happening.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

The Visser's been had! Hahhhaha! I've always want to do that, although I'm afraid I'm going to keep the details of the switch fuzzy since I myself can't figure out how the transactions were made. 

But I'm sure I could fill in this gap with something much more exciting…hmmm…lets see, how about the moment just before the gang storms in to rescue Sixkiller? Yeah. How about that? I'll give you a brief account of what happened between Sixkiller's archenemy; Esplin 9466. The Visser who gained countless enemies yet not a single friend…or has he? (I'm thinking about creating a special sort of relation between the two…hmm…I have to see how that works out. I don't want it to sound corny or something.)


	15. Mickey Taylor

SIXKILLER 

Wow, you people really need a lot of questions answered, but don't worry! All in good time; I'll answer them.

As you see my story has its own pace, and what's happening in the next chapter is going to be a huge turning point, why? Because I introduced something new to the story.

Thanks a lot to you people who reviewed, I'm looking forward to uploading the next part, the more reviews I get the faster I'm posting it –the reason behind this is that I find out if you people caught on and read it, I'm not going to give you a chance to read two chapters a day, that spoils all the fun! And kills the suspense!! 

_Chapter Fifteen_

"What do you mean 'trade off'?" Tom exclaimed. In his mind the face of Mark's surprised face flashed before him, he imagined a similar expression across his face though he still didn't understand why Mark wasn't so pleased to see him. Mickey stared back helplessly at Tom, as if Tom caught him doing something wrong.

"Exactly what I told you. Now," Mark snarled, "Get out of my face. Consider yourself lucky that you're even alive."

"No, no, I don't think you understand," Tom was shaking his head at the ridiculousness of Mark's absurd answer, "I _need_ to talk to Abby. _Now_."

"And I told you she's not here. Now, for the last time, get out of my face."

Mark started to shove past Tom when Tom reached out and grabbed Mark's arm, stopping him from going anywhere. Mark stopped, took a step back and regarded Tom with a briefly unemotional face as if considering his possibilities.

"Oh…_damn you._" Mark's face was suddenly contoured in anger; he pulled back an arm and violently introduced his fist to Tom's face.

"Umpf!"

THUD!

Tom hit the ground, Mickey yelped in shock and backed off. Mark stepped over him and marched out of the ally, Tom tried to shake off the blow but it didn't quite work like in the movies –where the actors just got up and walked away.

Mickey shifted his weight, muttered something incoherent and scuttled after Mark.

"So much for backup. Cousin." Tom grumbled dizzily as Rachel helped him up. He leaned against her as he tried to recover his senses, "That was a really, really fast save, look, you even missed them at the corner."

"So sorry. Tom," Rachel shrugged, "But I had my orders, "don't do anything rash", and that was coming from your brother, besides? If I did something and my rescue operation backfires…well, lets just say I don't want to go back to Jake empty handed _and_ have to explain how I got you killed."

"I think I understand." Tom muttered. He longed to see his brother but circumstances hindered his approach on this subject, he even began wondering if his brother was really alive.

"So what happened?" Rachel regarded Tom's face, "He doesn't seem like an awfully happy character."

"Got that right." Tom said, he gently inspected his cheek with his hand; it came away bloody.

"What, he wasn't so happy to see you?"

"I got on the wrong side of the guy from the start, I guess I'd have to talk to one of the others, they're more friendly."

"What about the other guy? He acted like he had nothing to do with what's happening."

"Oh, him? Mickey, he's sort of like that. From what Abby says, his parents are filthy rich and because of that he's spoiled rotten. Abby says he's a party boy, isn't that solid and doesn't seem to have a concrete word."

"That's sad." Rachel said.

"I don't know that much about him, that's what I heard."

Rachel shrugged, "Who knows, maybe he's something different inside."

"You think so?"

Rachel too a deep breath, "So, Tom, what's this girl look like?"

Tom stopped dabbing away at his bloodied cheek; he smiled at Rachel, "Why?"

She shrugged, "Just asking, is she anything special?"

"You could say." Tom said. He smiled a little remembering what happened the day before. Tom threw away the tissue he was holding, he sighed.

"You said she was British."

"Uhuh, Irish. Got the feeling they're mistreating her." Tom said. "She got a big blurry guy for a friend and a boyfriend that stopped caring."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, Vic, she called him." Tom paused, "He's the leader of the group but he doesn't control anyone anymore."

"How do you mean?"

"Abby said he's finished, he's sick and tired of anything to do with the war. He's just hanging in there. Barely."

"I see, you think they're slipping?"

"Pretty much. They are not going to last for another month. Besides, there's this thing about a girl that used to be with them, I didn't get the full story. But it was really deep."

"How long have they been fighting?" Rachel wondered.

"Longer than you, from what I've heard."

"How come we never heard of them?" Rachel said, "I mean we'd have heard about a 'human resistance'; busting the Yeerks."

"I don't know about that, I got the impression they used to fight off America, but I don't know."

"Yeah?"

"Could've even been off Earth."

"Hmmm." Rachel looked at the distance.

Tom stopped walking and squinted at the distance, "Hey, you're taking me to Cassie's barn?"

"Nope, you're not staying there, we're going to the forest, remember Ax? The Andalite? You're staying with him in the forest, this"-Rachel nodded her head towards the barn-"is far too close for comfort, besides, we don't need someone to I.D you. And we can't keep you with the Chee, like I said, you're fighting alongside us now. No worries. Everything is sorted out."

"I'm fighting alongside the Animorphs. And my kid brother is leader, yeah. No worries."

Rachel laughed, "You'll get used to the new Jake, we all did."

"I hope-" Tom started to say when he got interrupted by Rachel. She grabbed his hand and she started to pick up pace towards the barn.

"What is it?" Tom said alarmed, but he ran alongside her.

"Marco just talked to me, they managed to grab the other guy, you know, what's his name? Mickey?"

"How did Marco…Oh never mind." He grumbled as he halted in front of the barn door, feeling a bit out of breath.

"Lucky that Cassie's parents aren't here." Rachel started to push open the barn door.

"You let me go!" A voice threatened, "I swear it; you wouldn't want to find out what I could do."

Oh yeah? Marco sounded bored, And what is it you could do?

Rachel pushed Tom in, "I'll be back in a sec, I have to morph."

"Tom!" Mickey yelled as soon as he saw him come in, "Mate, run out of here! They'll kill us!"

"Don't worry about it Mickey, em, they just want to ask a few questions." Tom said, impossible not to feel a bit nervous with a gorilla around. It felt weird being on the good guys side.

"Questions?" Mickey looked doubtful, a bit nervous too, "What sort of questions?"

The sort we want answered, about your comrades. It was the bird talking, Tom frowned, what had they called him? _Nothlit?_ Was that his name?

"Em, sorry, Mark would have my head off for that." Mickey said quickly, "I mean, look at what he did to Abby."

Tom stepped forward, "What did he do? I didn't get what he was talking about."

"Nothing." Mickey said quickly, "nothing happened."

You better start giving us answers, Marco said as Rachel lumbered in, or you'd have a hard time explaining it in my friend's stomach.

Luckily, there were not a lot of animals in the barn, so there was no hysteria following a grizzly's appearance, well, aside from Mickey that is, "No! No. I'll talk, whatever it is you want."

That's better. Marco said, Now, how many comrades do you have?

"Em, four. Five! No four. Em, five. Em, I-" Mickey's stuttering ended with a puzzled nervous glance at Tom, "Are you with us?"

The gorilla's muzzled face was capable of frowning, nevertheless Marco held it back, he took tow steps forwards, Don't you know how many there are in your group?

"I don't know." Mickey blurted, "There's so many people coming and going and so many people that seem to be off on their own, I…I just don't know anymore."

Okay, Rachel said impatiently, How about this? Tell us how many people were in your resistance before Tom.

Mickey swallowed, "Four. Five with me."

Good. When Tom came you were six then.

"Em, yeah. I guess."

Excuse me, but 'I guess'? Rachel muttered privately, This guy is totally starting to get on my nerves. He can't even count?

Ignoring Rachel Marco said, Okay, how many people are there now?

"Five. Four, Abby's gone. No, five…em…" 

"What happened to Abby?" Tom interrupted.

Mickey flinched, "Do I have to tell? You guys are really getting me in serious trouble."

"Mickey." Tom said in a calm but edged voice, "Where is she?"

"Come on mate, you saw Mark, he'll kill me, I can't tell you." Mickey looked pleadingly at Tom. "Don't do this to me, mate. Mark swore he'll send us to hell if we talked about it outside the resistance…"

My friend the bear is capable of doing a bit more than that, Marco warned, now tell us.

Mickey scratched his ear and tilted his head to the ground and he mumbled something.

What?

Mumble. Mumble.

"Speak up, for god's sake." Tom said sounding exasperated, "What did he do?"

"He sent her off to the Yeerks." Mickey shouted, "There!"

Tom felt the blood freeze in his veins.

He did what? Marco said.

"You have to understand," Mickey cried out, "Mark isn't supposed to be in control, but Victor, oh god I don't know what happened." Mickey shook his head, he paced, agitated, "He's crazy, I swear he's nuts, and Victor isn't doing anything but standing aside and watching Mark go on."

Is she morph capable?! Marco yelled sounding alarmed.

"No, no, no." Mickey shook his head.

Thank god. Tobias mumbled to himself.

Rachel stood back, her little bear ears twitched, Then we don't have anything to worry about.

"She knows." Tom whispered.

Knows what? Rachel asked.

She knows Tom is alive. Marco hissed, She knows or thinks that the Visser caught him, what do you think that will tell the Visser?

The Andalites got her? Tobias said not quite getting it. He added a bit more aloud, Which would mean that Tom is alive. Alive and free.

"If there's one thing the Yeerks know about an involuntary host is that the first thing he'd do after being freed is go after his family. Warn them." Tom said slowly.

The group took a second to digest this.

"I don't care what you people say or who you say is guarding my brother; I'm going after Jake before the Yeerks get him." Tom turned around and headed out of the barn.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Mark sounds a bit gruff doesn't he?And yes, it's more than just your average bad day, something major happens. This chapter isn't that bad, but pleease don't miss the next chapter, its really important, I'd tell you what happens but I'll blow the surprise and I don't want that. 

**This is the end of part one. The story is continued in;**

**Sixkiller- SXK flips Time**


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